“Mrs. Landingham, does the President have free time this morning?" "The President has nothing but free time, Toby. Right now he's in the residence eating Cheerios and enjoying Regis and Kathie Lee. Should I get him for you?" "Sarcasm's a disturbing thing coming from a woman of your age, Mrs. Landingham." "What age would that be, Toby?""Late twenties?" "Atta boy.”

“By the age of twenty the distinctly Branwellian qualities would be developed from which he would never again shake himself free.”

“I am Mrs. Poulteney. I have come to take up residence. Kindly inform your Master.""His Infinitude has been informed of your decease, ma'am. His angels have already sung a Jubilate in celebration of the event.""That is most proper and kind of Him." And the worthy lady, pluming and swelling, made to sweep into the imposing white hall she saw beyond the butler's head. But the man did not move aside. Instead, he rather impertinently jangled some keys he chanced to have in his hand."My man! Make way. I am she. Mrs. Poulteney of Lyme Regis.""Formerly of Lyme Regis, ma'am. And now of a much more tropical abode." With that, the brutal flunkey slammed the door in her face.”

“You’re nothing but an aging sad cliché and I don’t want any part of it anymore. You’ll wind up right here, in a room just like this, twenty years from now paying for what I’ve been giving you for free from someone even younger than I am right now. Only you’ll be twenty years older and nothing more than a broken down image of the man you used to be. Good luck with that.”

“Not a single time have we gotten a right from Congress or from the President. We get them from God.”

“The information age is so psychotic – without the cell phone and Internet, I would be drama free right now.”