CJ: (in an e-mail to her father) The rules of a filibuster are simple enough. You keep the floor as long as you hold the floor. What does that mean? It means you can't stop talking ever. You can't eat and you can't drink which is fine because you can't leave the chamber to use the bathroom either. But all that's nothing compared with this: You aren't allowed to sit down. You aren't allowed to lean on anything or for that matter anyone. . . . If you ever have a free two hours and are so inclined, try standing up without leaning on anything and talking the whole time. You won't make it. I wouldn't make it. Stackhouse wasn't expected to last 15 minutes. He's 78 years old. He has a head cold. . . . Well, somebody forgot to tell Stackhouse, Dad, 'cause he just went into hour number eight.
Josh: (in an e-mail to his mother) Like Toby, I was puzzled as to why the Vice President, who made his money from the oil industry, who champions the oil industry, would volunteer to admonish the oil industry. . . . Hoynes kept hammering away. I was reminded for a minute how close he came to being elected President. Toby said it was an impressive display from Hoynes but couldn't get past the question of why he volunteered to do it.
Sam: The accounting office tells me I can save the tax payer $3 million by cutting 400 reports.
Winifred (GAO intern): You blow through these things like they don't mean anything.
Sam: They don't mean anything.
Winifred: You're an idiot. (Goes on to explain why reports are needed.
Sam: . . .Listen, you're talented. When you get out of school, you should come see me for a job.
Winifred: I suppose you're not a complete loser. And you write very well. So when I get out of school, you should come see me for a job.
Bartlet: Could Howard Stackhouse possibly be a bigger horses patoot?
Leo: I don't know what part of the horse that is exactly but I've always thought he was a decent guy.
Bartlet: He's a curmudgeon. A grouchy old crank.
Leo: So are we.
Bartlet: You are. I am full of mirth.
Bartlet: I want to call Senators. We'll start with our friends. When we're done with those two, we'll go on to the other 98.
CJ: (to her father) There are so many days here where you can't imagine that anything good will ever happen.
Josh: (to his mother) You're buried under a black fog of partisanship and self-promotion and stupidity.
Sam: (to his father) And a brand of politics that's just plain mean.
CJ: . . . tonight I've seen a man with no legs stay standing. . . and a guy with no voice keep shouting. And if politics brings out the worst in people, maybe people bring out the best.
Mark: CJ, it's Friday night. I'm supposed to have dinner with my girlfriend. She's going to kill me.
CJ: Yeah, but you know what, Mark? This is just the kind of thing that can cleanse the pallet of a relationship that's gone stale. Like a fine sorbet.
Mark: We've been going out for three weeks.
CJ: And she's already bitchin' about dinner?
Mark: CJ...
CJ: Lose her.
Leo: You just spent six billion dollars on health care. How do you feel?
Josh: I'd feel better if it meant just once I could go to a doctor without filling out something on a clipboard.
Josh: Where's my wallet?(Someone throws him his wallet from off screen) Thank you.
