Leo: Ok. Let’s start by refraining the question. Forget about a four year term, the presidency is 18 months. That’s your window. After that, there’s midterms. No one on the Hill has time to do business with you, they’re too busy getting re-elected.
Santos: Huh.
Leo: Then suddenly, you’re running again.
Santos: So I’m basically throwing everything out but my first five pages.
Leo: In the garbage. Realistically, one page. But, we can do this in phases.
Josh: [to media consultants] This is probably the greatest assemblage of Democratic talent since the last time Jed Bartlet dined alone.
Vinick: Hey, I’m proud of my voting record. Well, most of it. I’d quit the Senate in a second if I thought it’d help us win. Now it would just look like a cheap stunt.
Annabeth: Try to get some sleep. The motorcade’s going to pick you up at 7:00 am sharp at your hotel. Now, once you wrap it up with Russet you have a thirty-minute window to get to Face the Nation followed by a sit-down with the Post.
Leo: [as they wait for an elevator] Don’t you ever get tired?
Annabeth: No.
Leo: And how is that?
Annabeth: I graduated cum laude with a degree in art history and if you’d told me I’d end up here… [they get into the elevator] …let’s just say I love my job.
Leo: What time is it?
Annabeth: [hands him his watch] Headed back to your hotel?
Leo: Yeah. It’s been a day.
Annabeth: Hmm.
Leo: What are you up to?
Annabeth: Heading back to my apartment and a nice hot bath.
Leo: You feel like dinner?
Annabeth: I do, but–
Leo: We’ll get a bite. It’s early.
Annabeth: Thanks, but no. [pause] I just think it’s better while we’re spending so much time together that we try and keep our distance whenever possible.
Leo: [confused] Keep our distance?
Annabeth: Because of the tension. [walks out of the elevator]
Leo: What tension?
Margaret: I reached Oliver Babish. He says you owe him a raspberry panna cotta cheesecake.
C.J.: He’ll live.
Margaret: Longer, probably.
Will: You saw the wires. They counted the number of questions I was asked this morning because I didn’t answer one of them.
C.J.: You thought we were going to get good coverage this week?
Will: 47, by the way; a career high.
C.J.: You have to let the press punch themselves out.
Will: You’re talking to the punching bag. My job is to look like I’m not completely ignorant. Counsel won’t even brief me on the details of Toby’s firing.
C.J.: I asked them not to.
Will: Don’t you want me to have a shred of credibility in the briefing room?
C.J.: Your ignorance is your credibility. That’s why I put you in this job. And your constituents aren’t in that room, they’re in distressed urban areas. You brief at 4:00.
Will: 0 for 47. I’m the Jamaican Bobsledding Team!
Bram: The bus is here. We’ve really got to move.
Lou: Sir, do you know what the average SMT time was this week?
Santos: Bram clocks this. He rounds up because he’s got money on it.
Lou: 92 minutes.
Santos: That’s a lie!
Helen: SMT?
Edie: Santos Mean Time.
Helen: 92 minutes late?
Santos: The notion that I’m the problem is convenient, but completely fallacious!
Abbey: You’re not performing at the ceremony.
Bartlet: I wasn’t asked to.
C.J.: Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt–
Abbey: No, that’s quite alright. He was about to go into his Spencer Tracy routine.
Martin Sheen: Good evening. On December 16, we lost our good friend and colleague John Spencer. Through our shock and grief, we can think of no more fitting memorial to this wonderful man, this extraordinary actor, than to share with you, beginning tonight, the last few months of his work here on The West Wing. Johnny, it seems we hardly knew you; we love you and we miss you.
C.J.: I wanna do my job. I wanna suck every morsel of meat off this experience before it’s over.
Danny: Just get something done, will ya?
C.J.: That’ll come down to what it always comes down to.
Danny: What’s that?
C.J.: How dirty do my feet have to get without disappearing into the mud in order to get an inch of what I really want done.
C.J.: Are you ready?
Will: To fly into a massive cloud of radiation while the rest of the country is making hats out of tin foil?
C.J.: It was a rhetorical question.
Donna: Vinick has a cold!
Annabeth: Oh, that’s precious.
Josh: I’m going to send him some Vick’s Vapo-Rub and a big German nurse!
Lou: Hey Josh, the congressman’s briefcase, what’s inside there?
Josh: Road stuff… toothbrush, electric razor, sometimes a wallet. Why?
Lou: We seem to have lost it, and he seems kinda worried.
Josh: The guy’s running a tie for the presidency and he’s got two weeks left, so you can expect him to look worried once in a while.
Lou: So there’s nothing… bad in there.
Josh: Like?
Lou: I don’t know! Heroin, porn…
Josh: No, that’s all mine.
Lou: Uh, I’m gonna go.
Santos: We need to start addressing real issues and stop wasting time on beauty pageant ephemeric.
[after the various couples of the campaign retire for the night, Josh and Donna are sitting alone in a bar]
Josh: Did you ever… “come onboard?”
Donna: No.
Josh: Never had a campaign fling?
Donna: No. [sits next to Josh]
Josh: Do you want another drink?
Donna: No. [gets up, glances one last time at Josh, and slowly heads to her room]
Josh: [to Donna] Hey, what happened to you? Two minutes. 120 seconds - I was stuck in there with Dull and Duller, counting beads in my imaginary abacus. [he notices her expression] Ohio? Texas - we won? We lost? We need a good lawyer, what?
Donna: Leo was unconscious. In his room. Annabeth found him. He wasn’t… he wasn’t breathing. They’re taking him to the hospital in an ambulance now.
Charlie: [to Toby, at Leo's funeral] I’ll walk out with you. I don’t think a picture of you and me makes the New York Times. Do you?
Josh: This guy is the real deal.
Sam: You said that last time.
Josh: Yeah, and look how right I was.
Doctor: Your hand healed faster than I expected.
Vinick: That’s ’cause I went from 1,000 handshakes a day to none.
Gaile Addison: As you know, we have very little in the budget for redecorating.
Helen: Oh? How much is very little?
Gaile Addison: $200,000. You might want to establish a fund raising committee to raise a few million dollars and do it right. There really is a lot to do, especially in this room. I’ve never really liked the color of this rug but the Bartlet’s… Well. It’s up to you now.
Debbie: Good morning Mr. President.
Bartlet: Morning.
Debbie: How are you feeling this morning?
Bartlet: Unemployed.
Debbie: A lot of that going around the building.
-
Processing your request, Please wait....