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.'”

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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?

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

Sheperd: Are you nervous?
Sydney: No.
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.