Mary: What are you doing?
Meemaw: Making a withdrawal.
Mary: You put a hole in my wall and hid money in it?
Meemaw: It seemed safe. I mean, who'd look for money in this dump?
Mary: Why do you need it?
Meemaw: Legal fees. Maybe a new gambling room.
Mary: Mom.

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.

George: Studying for a test?
Sheldon: Studying to take the bar exam. Meemaw's going to need a smart lawyer. By the time we find one, I could just learn how to do it.
George: Seriously?
Sheldon: Common law was invented by a bunch of English farmers in the Middle Ages. I think I can hack it.

Sheldon: [knocks three times] Meemaw. [knocks three times] Meemaw. [knocks three times] Meemaw.
Meemaw: [opens door] What?
Sheldon: Oh, my, you look terrible. [covers his nose and mouth with his inner elbow] Are you sick?
Meemaw: Of life, yes.
Sheldon: Oh, good. [lowers elbow] That's not contagious.
Meemaw: Get in here. The light's killing me.
Sheldon: You smell like alcohol. Yucky.

Mandy: Do they know about Georgie?
Meemaw: No, of course not.
Dale: Your grandma's not a snitch. Which, by the way, will serve you well if you end up in the slammer.
Meemaw: The pokey, the slammer. What is it with you?
Dale: I like cop shows. You learn things.