Sheldon: Oh, I'm assuming you heard the bad news.
Mary: What news?
Sheldon: Isaac Asimov died.
Mary: Oh, no, is that one of your school friends?
Sheldon: What? No, he's one of the most prolific science fiction writers in the history of the genre.
George: Never heard of him.
Sheldon: Sure you have. He wrote I, Robot, the Foundation trilogy.
George: Nope.
Sheldon: Nightfall? The Posotronic Man?
George: You ever heard of this guy?
Mary: Mm-mm.
Sheldon: Caves of Steel. Hostess. The Naked Sun?
George: Whoever he is, sorry he died. Gotta go. Bye.
Mary: Bye.
Adult Sheldon: Astonishing. Asimov wrote almost 500 books, which was apparently 500 more than my family had read.

Sheldon: Missy and I broke a lot of rules the other night, and we've received no punishment.
George: [sighs] Buddy, it's been a rough week. We're just glad you're both safe.
Sheldon: But in the absence of a divine being, society's rules are what keeps a person's morality in check.
George: Well, there you go.
Sheldon: No, y-you're not following me. If actions have no repercussions, society breaks down, everything devolves into chaos.
George: You might be overthinking this.
Sheldon: I thought so, too. Then I thought about it, and I'm not.
George: Sheldon, you had one bad night. Just let it go.
Sheldon: But... I did something wrong and I got away with it. That's not okay.
George: Buddy...
Sheldon: Socrates maintained that the man who lies to himself has an enemy living within. He's not even a person. He's just a chaos of selfish desires wrapped in an animal hide.

Ms. MacElroy: Now, can anyone tell me why Melville shifts the narrative voice from Ishmael to Ahab? [Ms. MacElroy waits for somebody else to raise their hand] Sheldon.
Sheldon: I have a tummyache. I'd like to see the nurse.
Derek: A "tummyache"?
Sheldon: Yes, Derek, I have a tummy and it aches. Ergo, tummyache.
Derek: Ergo?
Sheldon: It's Latin, Derek.
Ms. MacElroy: Go to the nurse.
Sheldon: And to answer your question, the shifting point of view grants the reader a broader perspective of events than typically allowed by first-person narration.
Ms. MacElroy: Where were we?
Sheldon: And "ergo" is Latin for "hence," Derek.

Sheldon: Unbelievable. It's either cartoons or men in their underwear banging their heads together.
Ricky: You complain a lot.
Sheldon: Excuse me?
Ricky: Seriously, dude, you need to relax.
Sheldon: How can I relax? I'm being held captive in a bacterial playground.

Dr. Linkletter: [on answer phone] Connie, Grant Linkletter. Wonderful seeing you tonight.
Meemaw: Yeah, yeah.
Dr. Linkletter: Hope you enjoyed our little book club. If you'd ever like to discuss it further, I know the perfect Italian café. The cannolis are resplendent.
Meemaw: Resplendent! [chuckles] [machine beeps]
Dr. John Sturgis: [on answer phone] Connie! John Sturgis here.
Meemaw: What a surprise.
Dr. John Sturgis: It was so nice to have you at our book club. When it comes to science fiction, those things can be real sausage parties. Anyhoo, if you're free next week, I was wondering if you'd like to... [Meemaw skips to the next message]
Dr. Linkletter: Grant Linkletter again. If you don't like Italian, I also know a sublime Vietnamese spot. Have you ever tried Bún Boò Hue? [machine beeps]
Dr. John Sturgis: I don't know why I said "sausage party." There was probably a better way to phrase that. [machine beeps]
Dr. Linkletter: Connie, Grant Linkletter...

Sheldon: Can we get back to the book?
Dr. John Sturgis: Yes, Connie, I'd love to hear more of your thoughts on it.
Meemaw: I think I've said my piece.
Sheldon: I have some thoughts.
Dr. Linkletter: And we'll get to those in due time. Don't you think Asimov did a remarkable job of capturing the poetic terror of the coming darkness?
Meemaw: I'm not sure I got that.
Dr. Linkletter: Oh, listen to this. "Dusk, like a palpable entity, entered the room, and the dancing circle of yellow lights about the torches etched itself into ever-sharper distinction against the gathering grayness beyond." [Meemaw and John are silent]
Sheldon: Powerful.
Dr. Linkletter: Wasn't it?
[Meemaw shrugs her shoulders]

Georgie: [answers phone] Hello?
Dale: Hi, it's Dale. Listen, you gotta tell your dad.
Georgie: Well, I will, eventually.
Dale: Well, if you don't, I'm gonna.
Georgie: I just need more time to figure things out.
Dale: Well, your dad's sniffing around here, he's asking a lot of questions.
Georgie: What kind of questions?
Dale: Like why are you talking to me instead of him?
Georgie: Why does he care?
Dale: His feelings are hurt.
Georgie: That's weird.
Dale: I know. 'Cause talking to you ain't great.
George: [opens door] Can I get a hand with something?
Dale: Yeah. [on the phone] Oh, gotta go. I love you, Mom. Bye-bye. [hangs up]
George: Your mom's still alive?
Dale: Huh?