Sheldon: Gotta run. (Looks down at scissors) But not with scissors, that would be unsafe.

Sheldon: Bongo solo!

Leonard: It's 3 in the morning!
Sheldon: 3 in the morning is a good time for bongos.
Leonard: I was sleeping!
Sheldon: Leonard sleep while I play bongos.
Leonard: No, I don't.
Sheldon: Leonard no sleep while I play bongos.

Penny: Where are you going?
Sheldon: Wherever the music takes me, kitten.

Sheldon: I play bongos while walking down the stairs.
*Sheldon falls*
Sheldon: Never play bongos while walking down the stairs

Amy: There's not a hair on my body I wouldn't let this woman trim.

Leonard: Please don't let this be Sheldon playing bongos.

Wolowitz: I'm so dehydrated. My pee's like toothpaste.

Penny: Okay, what just happened?
Leonard: I don't know. Between you playing chess like Bobby Fischer and Sheldon being okay with you in his spot, I'm guessing someone went back in time, stepped on a bug, and changed the course of human events.

Howard: Sometime through the night an armadillo fell in, then he spooned me.

Leonard: Sheldon, it's okay. He can do it. He's a barber.
Sheldon: He's not a barber, he's the nephew. He's an example of the kind of nepotism that runs rampant in the barbering industry. Besides, Mr. D'Onofrio knows exactly how I like my hair done because he has all my haircut records from my barber in Texas.

Sheldon: Hello Leonard, do you like my bongos?

Sheldon: Bet you didn't know that I play bongos.

Sheldon: Oh, dear. Mr D'Onofrio's in the hospital. Why do these things always happen to me?

Sheldon: When I first moved here, I was nervous about finding a new barber, so my mother had all my haircut records sent here to Mr. D'Onofrio.
Leonard: There's no such thing as haircut records.

Sheldon: To paraphrase T.S. Eliot, this is the way the word ends, not with a bang but with a nephew.

Sheldon: I feel like a teen heartthrob.

Amy: What about Supercuts?
Sheldon: I tried once. They do men and women's hair in the same room at the same time. It's like Sodom and Gomorrah with mousse.

Penny: You know, Sheldon, sometimes it's nice not knowing what's coming. I mean, look at me and Leonard. We went out, we broke up, now we're trying again. We don't know what's gonna happen.
Sheldon: Oh, please, everyone knows what's going to happen.

Leonard: Hang on, uh, uh, roommate agreement. Ha! Um, no hootenannies, sing-a-longs, or barbershop quartets after 10:00 p.m.

Penny: Sorry, Sheldon, I'll move out of your spot.
Sheldon: Why? My spot, your spot; what difference does it make?

Leonard: What are you gonna do first?
Sheldon: I don't know. I could do anything. All bets are off. The world is my oyster. *slams hand on table* I got it. I'm gonna put on my Tuesday pajamas tonight.

Barber: I can cut it for you.
Sheldon: You're not Mr. D'Onofrio. I get my hair cut by Mr. D'Onofrio. *to Leonard* Can you believe this guy?

Althea: Can I help you?
Sheldon: Yes. Do you have something I could use as a cape?
Althea: Oh, dear. Did we spit out our pills, slip out of the ninth floor, and go on a little adventure?

Penny: All right, Sheldon, this craziness has gone on long enough. Please come home so I can cut your hair.
Sheldon: Penny, you're not trained. You're not licensed. Most importantly, you don't have access to my haircut records.
Penny: All right, honey, look, we've known each other for a long time now, right? I've taken you to Disneyland, I kicked a bully in the nuts for you, I sing you Soft Kitty when you're sick. You even saw me naked once.
Leonard: I'm sorry. Uh, what?
Penny: It was a long story. Anyway, Sheldon, I promise I know what I'm doing. Please let me cut your hair.