[As Meemaw writes a letter at Dale's kitchen table, he's playing his guitar and singing "I Walk the Line" by Johnny Cash]
Meemaw: [v.o.] George tells me you and Sheldon are having a good time in Germany. Things here are finally settling down. I moved in with Dale, which has been great. He's been so supportive and patient...
Meemaw: Could you play another song?
Dale: I'm working on this song.
Meemaw: My last nerve is what you're working on.
Dale: Well, you got to practice if you want to get good.
Meemaw: For what? You're 74. You gonna play that song in hell?
Dale: Look, this is my house, and in my house, I play the guitar.
Meemaw: I thought you said your house was my house.
Dale: And in your house, there's a guy who plays the guitar, and he's getting pretty doggone good.

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.

Georgie: Well, I can write you a letter if you want.
Mandy: Please don't.
Georgie: Why not?
Mandy: 'Cause your spelling makes me sad.
Georgie: I can use small words.

Meemaw: Well, there must be a way to compromise.
Dale: Compromise? There's no compromise. You won't let me spritz your nasal passages.
Meemaw: Even if I did, that's not gonna stop the tear gas coming out of your pants.
Dale: Onions in, onions out... We talked about this, you know.

Mandy: Aw. I think it's so romantic, you two writing to each other.
Georgie: It's just 'cause he's a cheapskate.
George: It can be both.
Mandy: Well, I think it's sweet.