Mary: Sheldon, why are you still up?
Sheldon: We're all gonna die! This isn't funny.
Mary: I know, baby, I know. But you need to understand that sometimes the news says those things just to scare people.

Sheldon: Regardless, I'm not interested in making any more friends.
Mary: Oh, I don't think that's how you really feel.
Sheldon: It is. From now on, it's a hermit's life for me.
Mary: I bet, when you grow up, you will be surrounded by lots of smart, wonderful friends.
Sheldon: I can't see that happening.

Sheldon: Mom, when should I be expecting my testicles?
Woman: [turns around] What is wrong with him?
Mary: Nothing is wrong with him. Now turn around before I knock your lights out.
Sheldon: Hello.

Mary: Sheldon Lee Cooper, if you don't finish that pork chop, I swear I will chew it up and spit it in your mouth like a mama bird.
Missy: Do it, Mom. Do 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.