Penny: (Bringing a pink suitcase) Here you go, Leonard. Is this going to be big enough?
Leonard: It's perfect.
Howard: For taking daffodils to your unicorn.

Howard: You're overlooking something. I have 11 hours with her in a confined space. Unless she#s willing to jump off a moving train, tuck and roll down the side of a hill, she will eventually succumb to the acquired taste that is Howard Wolowitz.

Sheldon: I'm confused. I thought you were involved in some sort of socially intimate pairing with Leslie Winkle.
Howard: Sheldon, let me explain to you how this works.
Sheldon: All right.
Howard: That's Summer Glau.
Sheldon: Yes.
Howard: That's it.

Howard: Do you believe him? Normally around women, he has the personality of a boiled potato. Put one beer in him, and he's M. Night Charmalarmalon.
Leonard: Is that what he's drinking? It's not even real beer.
Howard: What?
Leonard: Look at it. Non-alcoholic beer.
Howard: What's going on?
Leonard: I don't know. Some sort of placebo effect, I guess.
Howard: Placebo, you say. Interesting.

Howard: Hi, I'm the small package good things come in.

Howard: And did you know the word "pumpernickel" comes from the German words pumper and nickel, which loosely translates to fart goblin?

Leonard: Look at us. Getting ready for a double date with actual women who publicly acknowledge they're our girlfriends.
Howard: Yes, actual women are the best.
Sheldon: I don't understand. What other kind of women are there?
Leonard: Howard, artificial women are your department. You want to take this?
Howard: No, it would just freak him out.

Bernadette: So, what should we talk about?
Howard: Well, we could always learn more about why people who believe in psychics are idiots. Leonard?

Leonard: Come on, Howard, Bernadette, you're both scientists. Help me out here.
Howard: What do you think? Want to jump right into the middle of another couple's argument?
Bernadette: No, thank you.
Howard: Sorry.

Howard: Are we taking our relationship frustrations out on innocent Cylons?
Leonard: It's not just Cylons. Superman's next.
Howard: All right, I was going to try to squeeze in a little more mocking before lunch, but I can come back later when you don't have a high-powered weapon.

Howard: Keep reading. What does it say?
Raj: No, no, I don't know if I should. If she wanted me to know about her blog, she would've told me. It's almost like I'm reading her diary.
Howard: It's exactly what it's like. Keep reading.
Raj: No, this is creepy.
Howard: Oh, I think we were looking at creepy in the rear-view mirror when I put up that camera.

Priya: Hey, have you and Howard started planning your wedding yet?
Bernadette: Yeah. Were thinking of having it on a cliff overlooking the ocean.
Howard: Nothing soothes those pre-wedding jitters like the thought of falling and drowning.

Leonard: What did your mother say when you told her you were getting married?
Bernadette: He hasn't told her yet. He's waiting for the right time.
Howard: I was thinking of weaving it into her eulogy.

Howard: Okay, the Eagle has landed.
Leonard: What's going on?
Howard: Bernadette and my mother are having a get-to-know-you lunch at the Old Town Deli.
Raj: Oh, that sounds lovely.
Howard: Hope so. Of course, if history is any indication, my mother will swallow her whole and spit out her bones like an owl.

Leonard: Have you met Bernadette's parents?
Howard: You mean Adolf and Eva? Not yet. One goose step at a time.