Sheldon: What's going on?
Missy: I'm not feeling so good. [COUGHS LOUDLY]
Sheldon: Biohazard! Biohazard! [Sheldon jumps out of bed, runs out of the room]
Missy: Sucker.

Mary: Bless us, Lord, for the food we are about to receive and bless the hands that prepared it.
Missy: And bless Mom.
Mary: Thank you. Amen.
Missy: Amen.
George Jr.: Amen.
Sheldon: She's the hands that prepared it. Your blessing is redundant.
Mary: Let's eat.

Missy: Eat dirt. Eat it.
Meemaw: Kick his ass!
Missy: Does it taste good? Huh?
Dale: Yeah, listen to your meemaw. Kick his ass!
Missy: You gonna cry? Huh? Do it. Cry.
Mary: Do something. Break it up.
George Sr.: H-Hang on. She's winning.
Mary: Missy! Missy Cooper, you stop beating up that boy!
Meemaw: Punch him in the nuts!

Missy: Someone's Underoos are in a knot.
Sheldon: My Underoos are fitting just fine, thank you.
Missy: Then why is there a stick up your butt?
Sheldon: Stop making inquiries about my bottom.
Missy: But I enjoy it.

George Jr.: I think the saddest part about it is just how sad it is.

Adult Sheldon: As you can see, my meemaw successfully lured me back into the world by reminding me of my brave Texas ancestors. Their blood ran through my veins. I was a true son of the Lone Star State. Albeit a true son with an incredibly fragile immune system. I woke up the next morning with a temperature of 102 and a head packed full of mucus.

Meemaw: Mind if I take a crack at catching the Road Runner?
Mary: What are you gonna do that I couldn't do?
Meemaw: Oh, a little trick I learned trying to get prairie dogs out of the hole. Of course we'd whack off their heads with a golf club. I'm not gonna do that to Sheldon.