"Well, I guess I really killed them last night, right? See that audience? They went crazy. I could've gone on forever. Which, incidentally, is my intention, to go on forever. I think I've got this mortality thing licked. But more about me. What'd you think, Sarah Huckleberry?"
"It was deeply moving, Mr. Big Guy, almost Biblical. I believe there are some obscure and disputed scriptural passages that support your position of demeaning women."
"Good, get those lines out to Franklin. Gotta keep him and his people happy. Okay, who's next? Conway?"
"I thought your performance was brilliant, Mr. President. Had you gone into theatre, you would have taken all the awards."
"You're right, I would've put all those Actors Studio people to shame. I would've been much bigger than Robert DeSneero or Al Puccini. How about you, General Kelly? By the way, are you still a general, or are you a mister? Doesn't matter--what did you think of my performance?
"Well, Mr. President, I'm not one of those effete artistic people, I'm trained to maim and destroy, but I must say, when you went into that piece beginning 'Mom, what am I gonna do?' a lump rose in my throat."
"Thank you, General or Mister Kelly, whatever the hell you are."
"Of course, it might have been the burrito I had at lunch."
"Mr. President, it's almost KFC and Twitter time."
"Right, can't let my people down. Somebody get me a Diet Coke."
"Right away, sir!"
"In fact--what the hell--make it a double."
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