Sydney: Mr. President, I’m…don’t know what to say. I’m speechless.
Sheperd: All evidence to the contrary.

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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.'”