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.

Mary: All right, Tam. I decided I was gonna make you a real Texas dinner. Barbecued chicken and brisket.
Tam: Thank you.
Mary: Well, I figured you were probably tired of stuff wiggling around on your plate.

Mary: [sings] Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur. Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr, purr, purr.
Sheldon: Sing it again, Mom.
Mary: First, blow your nose.
Sheldon: [blows nose]
Mary: [sings] Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur. Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr, purr, purr.

Pastor Jeff: Mary, you understand these people are atheists.
Mary: I get it. They're not my people. You're my people.
Pastor Jeff: Then what's this all about?
Mary: My son just wanted a better sandwich. Why is this so hard for y'all to understand?!

Mary: Oh, I know that you're hurting, and... I'm here for you, so... what do you need?
Meemaw: Great, take me drinking.
Mary: It is 3:30 in the afternoon.
Meemaw: Yes, it's called happy hour.
Mary: I have to make dinner.
Meemaw: Oh, fine. I'll just be sad and drunk by myself. Maybe I'll go home with the bartender.
Mary: Missy! I have to go out with your meemaw, but I'll be back later with KFC.

Missy: And at lunch, an eighth-grade boy said, and I quote, "I like Funyuns, too."
Mary: Wow.
Missy: I know.

Mary: All right, what do you know?
George Sr.: Well, they're probably gonna have to pay some fine, and-and they're gonna need cash.
Mary: My son is gonna be in jail overnight?
George Sr.: What about your mother?
Mary: Oh, she's been there before.

Mary: We're hiring a youth pastor.
Sheldon: Why?
Mary: To help get young kids excited about God.
Missy: The same God who lets babies get thrown in rivers?
Mary: What?
Sheldon: We covered Moses in Sunday school.
Mary: Oh. Well, that was Old Testament God. He gets more fun later.

Mary: I hate to say it, but I think we need help with this.
George Sr.: Like what?
Mary: Maybe we could take him to that nice doctor who calmed him down when he was convinced he had an enlarged prostate?
George Sr.: Sheldon only calmed down when the doctor told him what happens in a prostate exam.
Mary: Poor thing. Still talks about it.

George Jr.: Ready to go?
Missy: Yep.
Mary: Go where?
Missy: The mall.
Mary: What happened to asking for permission?
Missy: I asked Dad.
Mary: You know that doesn't count.
Missy: That's what he said.

Sheldon: Do you think Georgie got a tattoo in jail?
Mary: No.
Sheldon: Do you think Meemaw did?
Mary: Probably.

Meemaw: Smart.
Mary: Thank you.
Meemaw: You're good at lying. You should do it more often.
Mary: I like your earrings.

Mary: Let's just eat.
Sheldon: Without praying?
Mary: [chuckles] How silly of me.
George Sr.: You all right?
Meemaw: Well, she's had a whole beer, so who knows.
Sheldon: Mother.
Mary: Can we just pray? [sighs] Bless us Lord for the food we are about to receive and bless the hands that prepared it. And forgive me for that beer. My mother made me do it. Amen.
Meemaw: Snitch.

George Sr.: What?
Mary: These gentlemen are with the FBI. They want to talk to Sheldon.
George Sr.: What? Y-You fellas must have made a mistake. Sheldon's nine.
FBI Agent #2: Well, someone living at this address recently called a mining operation in Canada and tried to buy uranium.
Mary: Okay, maybe it's not a mistake.

Mary: Will someone please tell me what happened?
George Jr.: Okay, me and Meemaw were in the bar at the track.
Mary: You took him to a bar?
Meemaw: He wasn't drinking.
George Jr.: She had a few too many margaritas, so I drove us home.
Mary: But you don't have a license.
George Jr.: That's why we swapped places after the cop pulled us over.
Mary: Oh, dear Lord.
George Sr.: I had nothing to do with this part.
Mary: Shut up.
George Sr.: Will do.

George Sr.: Kids in bed?
Mary: Not all of 'em.
George Sr.: Mary, if we let Georgie stay here, we're just makin' this all too easy for him.
Mary: I don't want to fight. I just want to know that our son is okay.
George Sr.: He's fine. He's stayin' at your mom's.
Mary: [sighs] Well, that's something. Although, where does she get off thinking that it's a good idea for him to drop out of school and then lettin' him live with her after he does it.
George Sr.: That's what I said.
Mary: Good! Maybe they'll learn to mind their own business!
Sheldon: [enters] Will you please stop fighting?
Mary: Oh, no. Sweetie, no, we're not fighting. We're just agreeing with each other angrily.

Sheldon: My mother believes I'm mentally unstable. And since there's a genetic component and I'm her child, I suppose it's possible.
Mary: I know you're angry right now, but you will not be disrespectful.
Sheldon: You know, fits of rage are a classic sign of psychosis.
Mary: Oh, you haven't seen fits of rage yet!

Mary: Okay, God, we need to talk. Are you testing me? Is this a test? Am I Mrs. Job? I try to be a good person, but... lately, it feels like you are smacking me down every chance you get. And I know that that might sound a little ungrateful right now, as I load my new dishwasher... That I love... But can't you pick on someone else for a while?