Meemaw: Well, somebody make a decision. That slop's getting cold.
Georgie: No, it's good cold or hot, like Grape-Nuts.

Georgie: What are you doing?
George: Separating the whites from the colors.
Georgie: Whoa, that's racist.

Georgie: Maybe you should go across the street and apologize.
George: I can't do that.
Georgie: Why not?
George: 'Cause if I do, it sets a bad precedent.
Georgie: What's Nixon got to do with it?
George: What?
Georgie: You said "bad president," like Nixon. You know, this guy.

Georgie: Okay, in my defense...
Meemaw: You have no defense. You're an idiot.
Georgie: That was a big part of my defense.

Meemaw: [on the phone] But I want to be clear, this is just one of those... Whatcha call it... Uh, platonic things. We're just having dinner.
Dr. Linkletter: I'll take it. Now, would you prefer a restaurant or some good home cooking? I make seven kinds of soup.
Meemaw: I think I'll just stick with a restaurant.
Dr. Linkletter: Fair enough, but one day, you'll try my mushroom barley, and your taste buds will swoon.
Meemaw: Good night, Grant. [starts to put down phone]
Dr. Linkletter: The secret is how long I cook the onions.

Meemaw: So... this is unexpected.
Dr. Linkletter: Well, I know you like margaritas, so my first thought was a Mexican restaurant.
Meemaw: Good thought.
Dr. Linkletter: But I assumed other men had come to that same conclusion.
Meemaw: They have.
Dr. Linkletter: Which led me to Polynesian fare. I like to think of the Mai Tai as the margarita of the South Pacific.
Meemaw: You don't do anything on a whim, do you?
Dr. Linkletter: Did once, didn't like it.

Missy: We could let people punch you for a buck.
Sheldon: No, all our profit would just go to medical expenses.