Sydney: Mr. President, I’m…don’t know what to say. I’m speechless.
Sheperd: All evidence to the contrary.
Sydney: I’ve gotta nip this in the bud. This has catastrophe written all over it.
Beth: In what language?! Sydney, this man is the leader of the free world. He’s brilliant, he’s funny, he’s handsome, and he’s an above-average dancer. Isn’t it possible our standards are just a tad high?
Robin: Fellas, we haven’t slept in three years. Can’t we forget work for one night and take this moment to enjoy each other as friends? It’s Christmas.
Lewis: It’s Christmas?
Kodak: Yeah, you didn’t get the memo?
Sheperd: We had a nice couple of minutes together. She threatened me and I patronized her and we didn’t have anything to eat, but I thought there was a connection. She didn’t say anything about me?
A.J.: Well, no, but I could pass her a note before study hall.
Sheperd: Tell me this: Hypothetically, what would happen–
A.J.: I feel a nightmare coming on.
Sheperd: Are you nervous?
Sheperd: Good. My nervousness exists on several levels. Number 1 — and this is in no particular order — I haven’t done this in a pretty long time. Number 2: Any expectations you might have, due to the fact that I’m, you know…
Sydney: The most powerful man in the world?
Sheperd: Exactly, thank you. Just so you remember that’s a political distinction that comes with the office. I mean, if Eisenhower were here instead of me he’d be dead by now.
Lewis: People want leadership. And in the absence of genuine leadership, they will listen to anyone who steps up to the microphone. They want leadership, Mr. President. They’re so thirsty for it, they’ll crawl through the desert toward a mirage, and when they discover there’s no water, they’ll drink the sand.
Sheperd: Lewis, we’ve had Presidents who were beloved, who couldn’t find a coherent sentence with two hands and a flashlight. People don’t drink the sand because they’re thirsty, Lewis. They drink it because they don’t know the difference.
A.J.: Mr. President, this is an election year. If you’re looking for female companionship, we can make arrangements that’ll insure total privacy and–
Sheperd: I don’t want you to get me a girl, A.J. What is this, Vegas?
A.J.: No, sir, this is the White House.
Robin: I think the important thing is not to make it look like we’re panicking.
Sheperd: See, and I think the important thing is actually not to be panicking.
Sydney: Mr. President, you got bigger problems than losing me. You just lost my vote.
A.J.: Mr. President, the American people have a funny way of deciding on their own what is and what is not their business.
Lewis: Can I state very clearly that I can’t be party to anything illegal.
A.J.: Good for you, Lewis.
Lewis: Say what you want, but it’s always the guy in my job that ends up doing eighteen months in Danbury Minimum Security Prison.
Sheperd: I’m going to her house. I’m gonna stand at her front door till she lets me in. And I’m not leaving till I get her back.
A.J.: How’re you gonna do that?
Sheperd: I haven’t worked that out yet. But I’m sure groveling will be involved.
Sydney: The President must think I’m a third-rate jerk.
Beth: If he thinks you’re a jerk, I’m sure he thinks you’re a first-rate jerk.
Sheperd: Douglas, does the N.R.A. have videotapes of you playing golf with Satan?
Lewis: Mood swings? Nineteen post-graduate degrees in mathematics, and your best explanation for going from a 63 to a 46 percent approval rating in five weeks is mood swings?
Sheperd: Uhh…this isn’t Richard, it’s Andrew Shepherd.
Sydney: Oh, really. Well, I’m so glad you called, because I forgot to tell you today what a nice ass you have. I’m also impressed that you were able to get my phone number, considering I don’t have a phone. Good night, Richard.
Sheperd: I studied under a Nobel-Prize-Winning economist. You know what he taught me?
A.J.: Don’t have a airline strike at Christmas?
Sheperd: Yeah. I’m going to St. Louis.
Sydney: Mr. President, I’m sure there’s an appropriate thing to say at this moment. Probably some formal apology for the nice-ass remark would be in order. I just don’t quite know how to word it.
Sheperd: Let me see if I’ve got this: The third story on the news tonight was that someone I didn’t know 13 years ago, when I wasn’t President, participated in a demonstration where no laws were being broken in protest of something that so many people were against it doesn’t exist anymore? Just out of curiosity, what was the fourth story?
Sydney: Mr. President, you have asked me to join you in representing our country. I’m honored. I’m equal to the task. I won’t let you down, sir.
Sheperd: Sydney, this is just a dinner. We’re not gonna be doing espionage or anything.
Sheperd: I feel terrible, but I have to cancel our date tonight.
Sydney: Another woman?
Sheperd: No, I’ve gotta go to St. Louis and avert a massive airline strike.
Sydney: Boy, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that one.
Sydney: Two hundred pairs of eyes are focused on you right now, with two questions: “Who’s this girl, and why is the President dancing with her?”
Sheperd: First of all, the 200 pairs of eyes aren’t focused on me. They’re focused on you. And the answers are “Sydney Ellen Wade” and “Because she said ‘yes.'”
Lewis: I tell any girl I’m going out with to assume that all plans are soft until she receives confirmation 30 minutes beforehand.
Robin: And they find this romantic?
Lewis: Well, I say it with a great deal of charm.
Sheperd: I want to send some flowers, Janie. I want to do it myself. I don’t want to staff it out, and I don’t want to issue an Executive Order. I just want a phone number.
Sheperd: I gotta get her flowers.
Sheperd: I broke our date. This is what men do.
Robin: It’s not what men do. I know no men who do that.