Penny: Wow, Sheldon, I cannot believe you made up your own game.
Sheldon: Oh, Research Lab is more than just a game. It's like the slogan says, the physics is theoretical, but the fun is real.

Penny: How is that not talking to me like I'm an idiot? It's my friend, it's my couch, and it's my freakin' life!
Sheldon: It's also your roll.

Sheldon: Come on, Leonard, if you roll a six, Penny dies horribly in a nuclear meltdown. See what I mean when I say the fun is real?

Sheldon: Hey, I thought of a game we can play in the car.
Leonard: I don't want to play a game, Sheldon.
Sheldon: It's called Scientists. Now, I will name three scientists, then you will put them in order of the size of their contribution to their respective fields. To make this game even more compelling, you must consider only the contribution of the man to the field, not the validity of the field itself. For example, Abu Musa Jabir ibn Hayn made a greater contribution to the discredited field of alchemy than Halbert Vanderplatt made to neurobiology. Okay, ready to have some fun?

Sheldon: Leonard! Stop the car!
Leonard: What?
Sheldon: I can't listen to the two of you fight anymore.

Sheldon: Come on, come on, we're late.
Leonard: Calm down, we'll make the movie.
Sheldon: I believe my alarm is appropriate, given the situation. The movie starts in 17 minutes, which means we'll need to make all the lights on Colorado Boulevard, plus skip the concession stand, and pre-show urination.

Leonard: Hey. We're, uh, going to the movies.
Sheldon: No, we're not. We're standing in the hallway, suffering through an awkward encounter.
Leonard: Hang on. They're showing a new digital print of Time Bandits, you wouldn't want to come, would you?
Penny: Not really, no.
Sheldon: All right, invitation pointlessly offered, invitation declined as expected, everyone's civil, nobody's fighting. Have a nice evening.

Penny: Okay, fine, it's soup and a small sandwich. Is that what you want?
Sheldon: Of course not. I'll have my usual.
Penny: Great.
Sheldon: Aren't you going to ask me if I want a beverage?
Penny: Don't you usually get lemonade?
Sheldon: Yes.
Penny: Do you want lemonade?
Sheldon: Yes.

Sheldon: Yes, I want you to apologize to Leonard.
Penny: I am not going to apologize. I've done nothing wrong. He is completely overreacting.
Sheldon: Irrelevant. The disruption in your relationship is making my life intolerable.
Penny: Well, I'm sorry, Sheldon, but this really isn't about you.
Sheldon: I don't follow.

Sheldon: Were you under the impression that Leonard has no complaints about you?
Penny: Like what? Yeah, yeah, I see you, you're making a little check sign in the air, I got it, just hold your horses. What does Leonard complain about?
Sheldon: Your driving, the plethora of stuffed animals on your bed that stare at him during your amorous activities, your constant tardiness, your singing.
Penny: My singing?
Sheldon: That's actually from my list, but Leonard would be a fool if he didn't agree with it.
Penny: Okay, if Leonard has so many problems with me, why hasn't he just said so?
Sheldon: Because, according to him, you're oversensitive and have a temper.
Penny: Oh, really? Well, then, do me a favor and tell Leonard that he can drop dead!
Sheldon: And she wonders why she's constantly under-tipped.

Sheldon: Oh, good, you're home. I need you to do me a favor.
Leonard: Sure.
Sheldon: Go apologize to Penny.
Leonard: What?
Sheldon: Right now would be good.
Penny: (knocking) Leonard!
Sheldon: Although, a few minutes ago would have been better.

Leonard: I'm not leaving until you talk to me.
Penny: All right, what's going on?
Leonard: It's a little hard to explain. He does this thing where he pretends he's in an alternate dimension that occupies the same physical space we're in, but he can't perceive us.
Sheldon: Don't flatter yourself. I'm just ignoring you.

Penny: Come on, Sheldon, let's go home. Look, we're done fighting.
Sheldon: I've heard that before, but then, the next thing you know I'm hiding in my bedroom, blaring a Richard Feinman lecture while my mom is shouting that Jesus would forgive her if she put ground glass in my dad's meatloaf, and my dad's on the roof skeet-shooting her Franklin Mint collectible plates.
Penny: Okay, there's going to no more shouting and no skeet-shooting.

Sheldon: Excuse me. You're misusing the word 'ho'. It's an interjection used to call attention to a destination, not an object, as in 'land ho' or 'westward ho'.

Sheldon: Oh yes, canine football fans are a common sight in Texas. Cats, however, refuse to wear sporting apparel. My sister found that out the hard way.