Rumson: Mr. Shepherd’s read a lot of books, but you didn’t need a Harvard degree to see this comin’ a mile down the road.
Sheperd: I went to Stanford, you blowhole.

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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.

A.J.: Mr. President, the American people have a funny way of deciding on their own what is and what is not their business.

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?

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.