Leonard: How can 5 not be worse than 1?
Raj: Yeah, Star Trek 5 worse than 1.
Sheldon: Okay, first of all that is a comparison of quality not intensity. Secondly, Star Trek 1 is orders of magnitude worse than Star Trek 5.
Raj: Are you joking? Star Trek 5 is the standard against which all badness is measured.

Tom: I'm sorry, dude, she didn't look anything like her picture.
Leonard: They never do.

Sheldon: For what it's worth, my mother says that when we deceive for personal gain, we make Jesus cry.

Howard: Ok, now, this is an exact duplicate of The Wolowitz Solid Waste Disposal System, as deployed on the International Space Station.
Raj: Don't you mean the Wolowitz Solid Waste Distribution System?

Raj: We need a plan. How about Operation Hammer of the Gods?
Leonard: I forget, which one is Hammer of the Gods?
Raj: We hide behind the dumpsters in the parking lot and ambush people when they come to pee.

Raj: Tag, you're it!
Howard: Shouldn't you put him in a brown paper bag and set him on fire?

Sheldon: Yeah, I have to say I thought the toilet humor would get less funny with repetition. Apparently there is no law of diminishing comedic returns with space poop.

Penny: What up moonpie!

Leonard: So if you are considering going into experimental physics, my door is always open. Once again, I'm sorry that the demonstration didn't quite work out. But now we know what happens when you accidentally spill peach snapple into a helium-neon laser. The short answer is don't.

Sheldon: I drank milk that tasted funny.

Sheldon: Worst Renaissance Fair ever!
Leonard: Please let it go, Sheldon.
Sheldon: It was rife with historical inaccuracies, for example, the tavern girl, serving flagons of mead, now her costume was obviously Germanic, but in 1487, the Bavarian purity laws, or Reinheitgebot, severely limited the availability of mead. At best, they would've had some spiced wine.
Leonard: You're nitpicking!
Sheldon: Oh, really? Well, here's another nit for you, the flagons would not have been made of polypropylene.

Howard: Mock me if you will, but it works. You show up at a club in something distinctive, scope out your target and toss out some negs.
Raj: What are negs?
Howard: A neg is a negative compliment that throws a pretty woman off her game. Like "Normally, I'm not turned on by big teeth, but on you, they work." I've got a whole list of em. Who wants to be my wingman?
Leonard: You're not gonna need wingman, you're gonna need a paramedic.

Leonard: By the way, my leg is killing me. Thanks for asking.

Sheldon: Doesn't anyone wanna know where he's going?
Penny: Okay, where is he going?
Sheldon: Leonard is going to the office.

Penny: You can't let her get into your head.
Leonard: It's too late for me, my head is her summer house.