Amy: I'll call you when we get to the hotel.
Sheldon: And if they have any of those tiny bottles of shampoo?
Amy: I will bring them home so you can show me how Godzilla takes a shower.

Sheldon: I thought I was getting better at it, but clearly I'm not.
Amy: Yes, you are. There have definitely been days when I was sad and you could tell.
Sheldon: Yeah, but that's shooting fish in a barrel. You're kind of a sad sack. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I'm just upset.
Amy: No, see, right there, you knew you hurt my feelings. And I'm proud of you - for reasons I'm sure have something to do with my father.

Bernadette: For Howie's occupation, should I include that he was an astronaut?
Amy: Well, he mentioned it in his mother's eulogy, so why not?

Amy: Well, I'm really happy for you.
Sheldon: Oh, no. It's not just me. No, the railway is four hours from the nearest airport, and guess who gets to drive me.
Amy: I give up.
Sheldon: You!
Amy: No. I really give up.

Amy: Did you hear anything back from the Caltech preschool?
Bernadette: Not yet, but we're gonna apply to a bunch of others just to keep our options open.
Penny: Okay, stop that! No more preschool talk. Tonight is about having fun.
Amy: Nothing says fun like being scolded.

Sheldon: Can you stop breathing so loud? I can hear your nose whistling.
Amy: I can hear your face talking, so we're even.

Amy: "Revised ground rule number two: There are definitely stupid questions. And those who ask them can be told so right to their stupid face."
Sheldon: I love that one.
Amy: Thanks, babe.

Penny: Well, what do you want us to do?
Amy: I don't know. Might be the New Jersey talking, but this Nowitzki broad needs to disappear.

Penny: How was the wedding?
Amy: Great. Until I accidentally made Leonard fall in love with me.
Penny: Come in, let's talk. Do you want a glass of wine?
Amy: Wine is one of the reasons I'm in this fix. That and this dang pelvis.
Penny: Okay, I'm sorry, what exactly happened?
Amy: The inevitable. He was lonely and vulnerable from missing his girlfriend, while I was charming, supportive and, let's face it, in this dress, the perfect combination of Madonna and whore.

Amy: This is my fiance, Dr. Sheldon Cooper. That's the first time I've said that and it kind of gave me the goose bumps.

Dr. Harris: Amy, I recently read your paper on lesions in the olfactory receptors in the brain. It was inspired.
Amy: Oh, well, I guess it didn't stink. But if it did, that rat wouldn't have known it.

Amy: So if anyone brings it up tonight, just maybe you can help me change the subject.
Sheldon: How about this? I dominate the conversation so hard, no one has a chance to get a word in edgewise.
Amy: I don't know. They might see that coming.

Amy: Sheldon, what am I gonna do about my maid of honor? I mean, Bernadette gave me all these bridal magazines. She even folded down the pages with the good dresses.
Sheldon: Hmm. Hmm. I get it. You know, Leonard once borrowed my Edmund Scientific catalogue and dog-eared some pages. Never got 'em straight again.
Amy: Well, that is exactly the same thing. You really understand my dilemma.

Amy: How are we gonna make these decisions without anybody getting upset?
Sheldon: Well, what if we take emotion out of the process, and base it on empirical metrics? Then we aren't really making the decision; the data is.
Amy: So we can hurt our friends' feelings without taking any responsibility? Me likey.

Amy: But how do we apply quantitative metrics to something as subjective as choosing a wedding party?
Sheldon: That decision only seems subjective. In reality, people in a wedding party perform very specific functions, and some will perform those better than others. If I may use a superhero analogy-
Amy: You may not.