Meemaw: So, how's my daughter doing?
George: Eh, she seems okay. Still trying to figure things out. I got to be honest, I'm not exactly upset about less religion in the house.
Meemaw: [chuckles] I hear you. Although, Jesus making her forgive me has come in handy more than a few times.
George: [chuckles] Yeah, I played that card, too.
Meemaw: [chuckles] Then again, I remember Mary before God got His mitts on her, and... [chuckles] ...she was pretty wild.
George: Don't have to tell me. I was the person she was wild with.
Meemaw: Oh, she was wild long before she ever met you.
George: What do you mean?
Meemaw: Did you think that you were the first person she was wild with?
George: Well... yeah.
[Meemaw holds her tongue and looks away]

Mary: Mom, can you make the salad?
Meemaw: Sure.
George: Hey, don't put in any of those little tomatoes.
Meemaw: Hey, I don't tell you how to impersonate a lump of clay. You don't tell me how to make a salad.

Meemaw: I know this is hard for everyone. It's certainly hard for me. But no one... is more upset with George's passing than the Lone Star Beer company. That flag is at half-mast. [laughter] On the other hand, there's a lot of cows out there that are breathing a sigh of relief. As the king of brisket has put down his fork and ridden off into the sunset. [laughter] And, uh, I'll tell you something...
Missy: Why are they laughing at Dad?
Georgie: 'Cause they love him.
Meemaw: ...that I always kind of kept to myself, but... I wasn't always a big supporter of George and Mary being an item. As a matter of fact, whenever he came to visit, I would always invite Mary's slutty friend Janice over, hoping to catch his interest. [laughter] Hey, Janice. Thanks for coming. You're a doll. [Dale looks back] Anyway... George only had eyes for Mary. And of course brisket. [laughter] And over the years, he surely earned my respect. He was a good man. [voice breaking] And I will always be proud... to call him my son.

Sheldon: Meemaw? I assume you've read the Surgeon General's report on the dangers of smoking?
Meemaw: I'm gonna wait till they turn it into a movie.

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.