Penny: While you're there, could you pick up a few comics for my nephew's birthday?
Sheldon: I think you mean comic books. Comics are feeble attempts at humor featuring talking babies and anthropomorphizing pets found traditionally in the optimistically named funny pages.

Sheldon: Look at that, that's a dent. Thank you, Howard ham-fisted Wolowitz.

Howard: Look, there are plenty of bars in Los Angeles where you can order grasshoppers and chocolate martinis, but you wouldn't have to because there are no women in them.

Leonard: How about those two?
Howard: Nah, they're eating peanuts. My allergies, one kiss would put me in Cedar-Sinai for a week.

Sheldon: Yeah, provided he has already read Infinite Crisis and 52, and is familiar with the re-establishment of the DC multiverse.
Penny: What's a multi-verse?
Sheldon: Get her out of here.

Sheldon: Just pick out anything? Maybe at the same time we can pick out a new suit for him without knowing his size, or pick out his career for him without knowing his attitude, or pick out a new breakfast cereal without knowing his fiber requirements or his feelings about little marshmallows.