Leonard: Is this the stuff you want me to try on?
Penny: No this is the stuff I want you to throw out. Seriously, don't even give it to charity. You won't be helping anyone.

Sheldon: Just the latest copy of Applied Particle Physics Quarterly.
Penny: Oh, you know, that is so weird that yours came and mine didn't.

Leonard: You are not Isaac Newton.
Sheldon: No, no, that's true. Gravity would have been apparent to me without the apple.

Leonard: Sheldon, we have to do this.
Sheldon: No we don't. We have to take in nourishment, expel waste, and inhale enough oxygen to keep ourselves from dying. Everything else is optional.

Howard: The monster truck is out of Austin, Texas, and the blue Viper is being operated from suburban Tel Aviv.
Sheldon: You may want to put on slacks.
Penny: What? Eww! Stop it! No! Leave me alone.
Leonard:Who's running the red Corvette?
Howard: That would be me!

Leonard: Oh, geez, does this suit really look that bad?
Sheldon: Forget your suit. Look at my arms flailing. I'm like a flamingo on Ritalin.

Leonard: Sheldon, why is this letter in the trash?
Sheldon: Well, there's always the possibility that a trash can spontaneously formed around the letter, but Occam's Razor would suggest that someone threw it out.

Penny: Howard, would you like to explain to me why your Facebook page has a picture of me sleeping on your shoulder captioned: "Me and My Girlfriend"?
Howard: Uh oh, here comes "The Talk"!
*Penny tries to blow up Howard's head.*

Sheldon: Look at me, look at me, I've got goosebumps.

Leonard: Are there any other honors that I've gotten that I don't know about? Did UPS drop off a Nobel Prize with my name on it?
Sheldon: Leonard, please don't take this the wrong way, but the day you win a Nobel Prize is the day I begin my research on the drag co-efficient of tassles on flying carpets.

Leonard: You cannot blow up my head with your brain.
Sheldon: Then I'll settle for an aneurysm.

Howard: Gentlemen, I am now about to send a signal from this laptop through our local ISP racing down fiber optic cable at the of light to San Francisco bouncing off a satellite in geosynchronous orbit to Lisbon, Portugal, where the data packets will be handed off to submerged transatlantic cables terminating in Halifax, Nova Scotia and transferred across the continent via microwave relays back to our ISP and the external receiver attached to this...lamp.

Penny: What is this?
Leonard: Oh, careful. That's my original series Battlestar Galactica flight suit.
Penny: Oh, why didn't you wear it on Halloween?
Leonard: Because it's not a costume, it's a flight suit.

Sheldon: You know, in the future, when we're disembodied brains in jars, we're going to look back on this as eight hours well wasted.
Raj: I don't want to be in a jar. I want my brain in an android body. Eight feet tall and ripped.
Howard: I'm with you. I just have to make sure if I'm a synthetic human I'd still be Jewish. I promised my mother.
Raj: I suppose you could have your android penis circumcised. But that's something your Rabbi would have to discuss with the manufacturers.
Sheldon: Not to mention you'd have to power down on Saturdays.

Leonard: Okay, if I may drill down to the bedrock of my question, why did you throw it out?
Sheldon: Because I have no interest in standing in the Rose Room of the Pasadena Marriott in front of a group of judgmental strangers, who wouldn't recognize true genius if it were standing in front of them giving a speech. Which, if I were there, it would be.