The West Wing Season 1 Episode 1

C.J.: You can have a normal life. You'd be amazed at how normal I can be. See, it's all about budgeting your time. This time, this hour, this is my time. Five a.m. to six a.m. I can workout, as you see. I can think about personal matters. I can meet an interesting man. Her beeper goes off The trick is...

Bartlet: Now I love my family and I've read my Bible from cover to cover so I want you to tell me from what part of Holy Scripture do you suppose the Lambs of God drew their divine inspiration when they sent my 12-year-old granddaughter a Raggedy Anne doll with a knife stuck through its throat? You'll denounce these people, Al, you'll do it publicly, and until you do you can all get your fat asses out of my White House. CJ, show these people out.
Mary Marsh: I believe we can find the door.
Bartlet: Find it now.

Mary: I can tell you that you don't believe in any God I pray to, Mr. Lyman. Not any God I pray to.
Josh: Lady, the God you pray to is too busy being indicted for tax fraud.

Sam: No. No. What I was gonna say is this: Is it possible, that in addition to
being a law student and part-time bartender, that you are what I'm certain would
have to be a very high-priced call girl. I, by the way, making no judgments.

Sam: Ms. O'Brien, I understand your feelings, but please believe me when I tell you that I'm a nice guy having a bad day. I just found out the Times is publishing a poll that says a considerable portion of Americans feel that the White House has lost energy and focus. A perception that's not likely to be altered by the video footage of the President riding his bicycle into a tree. As we speak, the Coast Guard are fishing Cubans out of the Atlantic Ocean while the Governor of Florida wants to blockade the Port of Miami. A good friend of mine's about to get fired for going on television and making sense, and it turns out I accidentally slept with a prostitute last night. Now. Would you please, in the name of compassion, tell me which one of those kids is my boss's daughter.
Mallory: That would be me.

Laurie: Tell your friend POTUS he's got a funny name, and he should learn how to ride a bicycle.
Sam: I would, but he's not my friend, he's my boss. And it's not his name, it's his title.
Laurie: POTUS?
Sam: President of the United States.

Toby: Mind-boggling to me that we ever won an election.

Van Dyke: Show the average American teenage male a condom and his mind will turn to thoughts of lust.
Toby: Show the average American teenage male a lug wrench and his mind'll turn...

Leo (on the phone): Seventeen across. Yes. Seventeen across is wrong. You're spelling his name wrong. What's my name? My name doesn't matter. I'm just an ordinary citizen who relies on the Times crossword for stimulation. And I'm telling you, that I've met with the man twice, and I've recommended a preemptive Exocet Missile attack against his airforce. So, I think I know how to...

Mrs. Landingham: I don't understand. How did he...?
Leo: He's a klutz, Mrs. Landingham. Your President's a geek.
Mrs. Landingham: Mr. McGarry, you know how I feel about that kind of talk in the Oval Office.
Leo: I apologize.
Mrs. Landingham: Just in this room, Mr. McGarry. That's all I'm asking.

Leo: He was swerving to avoid a tree.
Donna: What happened?
Leo: He was unsuccessful.

C.J.: Is there anything I can say except 'The President rode his bicycle into a tree.'?
Leo: He hopes never to do it again?
C.J.: Seriously, they're laughing pretty hard
Leo: He rode his bicycle into a tree. C.J., what do you want me...'The President, while riding his bicycle on vacation in Jackson, came to a sudden arboreal stop'. What do you want from me?
C.J.: A little love, Leo.

Leo: Margaret, please call the editor of "The New York Times" crossword and tell him that "Khaddafi" is spelled with an "h" and two "d"s, and isn't a seven letter word for anything.
Margaret: Is this for real, or is this just funny?
Leo: Apparently, it's neither.