Sheldon: Well, I cut quite the dashing, yet hygienic figure, don't I? I look like the Flash about to get married.

Mr. Rostenkowski: It's gonna be okay, son.
Howard: You really think so?
Mr. Rostenkowski: Of course. A pretty girl like Bernadette, she'll find a new guy.

Sheldon: I must say, I was surprised you chose to spend our date night in your apartment. As I mentioned, the Pasadena City Council is debating longer crosswalk times. And later, the LEGO store is having a midnight madness sale. You ask anyone, that's a hot date.

Raj: Well, that wasn't as entertaining as when he rents bowling shoes, but it was right up there.

Penny: Well, I've been thinking, and maybe I'm ready to take things a little faster.
Leonard: Oh, great. And I promise, after waiting four months, fast is what you're gonna get.

Amy: Seven o'clock, right on time.
Sheldon: It's not an accident. I waited outside your door for twenty minutes.

Amy: Human beings form emotional attachments as they grow up. In your case, to your mother, superheroes, et cetera. I'm going to attempt an experiment that will get you to transfer those feelings to me.
Sheldon: Well, it seems what's on the menu tonight is malarkey with a big side of poppycock.

Assistant: Why don't you slip this on?
Sheldon: Said the hangman offering a noose.
Raj: Well, that wasn't as entertaining as when he rents bowling shoes, but it was right up there.

Amy: Oh, I know. I think it will go nicely with what I have prepared for dinner.
Sheldon: Spaghetti with little pieces of hot dog cut up in it!
Amy: Just like your mommy used to make.
Sheldon: Oh yummy, yummy! We should do this more often. Uh-oh.

Penny: You know, just-just one thing. Look, we're in a really great place right now, and I don't want to do anything that will make stuff all weird again.
Leonard: So we won't let it get weird.
Penny: Okay. Oh, and just a heads-up, mm, since the last time you saw me naked, I got a Cookie Monster tattoo. The acceptable responses when you see it are awesome or nothing.
Leonard: What about ... (in a low voice) Cookies!

Howard: Yes, yes, I've been doing my push-ups. I'm still stuck at nine, but that's going all the way down with no one holding me.

Sheldon: Ah, much better.
Leonard: You must be burning up.
Sheldon: A little. But not more than your urethras will be after whatever's in those pants swims up them.

Howard: Hey, I was thinking. For our first dance at the wedding, what if we learn the final number from Dirty Dancing?
Bernadette: You're kidding.
Howard: No, come on. How cool would that be? Me running into your arms, you lifting me up into the air.

Sheldon: Leonard, these rental tuxedos have been worn by hundreds of sweaty strangers. I don't like my own sweat touching my skin. How do you think I feel about theirs?

Sheldon: For example, this morning I was calculating the random motion of virtual particles in a vacuum, when suddenly the particles morphed into an image of Amy's dandruff gently cascading down onto her pale, slightly hunched shoulders. Oh, what has that vixen done to me, Leonard? And how do I make it stop?