Gus Hedges: Morning hotshots. Are we cooking with napalm? You bet.

Gus Hedges: There is just something I'd like to pop into your percolator, see if it comes out brown.

Gus Hedges: Let's keep kneecapping the opposition.

Gus Hedges: We've got to downsize our sloppiness overload.

Gus Hedges: Could we interlock brain spaces in my work area?

Gus Hedges: Morning talent base. Are the afterburners on full thrust? You bet.

Gus Hedges: Yes, well, publicity-wise this is a rather regrettable gonads-in-the-guillotine situation.

Gus Hedges: We're merely running our bulletins through the cappuccino machine of innovation, see if it comes out frothy.

Gus Hedges: Morning, mountaineers. Climbing the north face of newsmaking again are we? Terrific.

Gus Hedges: Helen, if I could just park in your mental multi-story a moment...

Gus Hedges: I think we have a slight togetherness shortfall here.

Gus Hedges: Problems are just the pregnant mothers of solutions.

Gus Hedges: Today is tomorrow's tadpole of opportunity.

Gus Hedges: I feel a very real sense that we ought to be wary of running any unsubstantiated stories if we're to avoid a feces and fan situation.

Gus Hedges: Yes, well, I sense we may be straying down Tangent Boulevard here.

Gus Hedges: I'm setting you free. Free to roam the high seas of enterprise as the buccaneers of our broadcasting future.

Gus Hedges: I'd just like you to stir-fry a few ideas in my think-wok.

PM's Spokesman: The PM will require a glass of water.
Alex Pates: To drink or to walk on?

Damien Day: Did anyone see World In Action? They sneaked inside a maternity ward to show how poor security is. I mean. I did that two years ago. D'you remember that, George?
George Dent: How could we forget?
Damien Day: I put the baby back! I mean all right, it was in the wrong cot but it all got sorted out in the end! If you ask me those mothers just overreacted.

Sally Smedley: Either I get a formal response to my request for the same lunch allowance as Henry or I shall withdraw my labor. How would you like that?
Joy Merryweather: How would we know?

Henry Davenport: Oh yes, they say this woman with the sexual harassment case may be able to make Bill Clinton exhibit his penis as evidence. The question is...
All: Will it stand up in court?

Dave Charnley: When I woke up with you that morning, somehow there was something special about you.
Helen Cooper: Yes, you knew my name.

Henry Davenport: Over the last twenty-five years, I have read the news drunk, concussed, stoned, with a live stoat in my underpants and once on regional television with my trousers round my ankles and a Lithuanian prostitute under the news desk.

Sally Smedley: Any messages, Joy?
Joy Merryweather: Yes, your planet called, said your mission on Earth was over and could you go home.

Henry Davenport: Last week I took this actress back to my flat. She had five orgasms.
Joy Merryweather: Oh, she must be a bloody good actress.

Sally Smedley: I'd be ever so grateful if you'd not put that on my side of the desk.
Henry Davenport: Pardon me for breathing.
Sally Smedley: Well, if you'd stop doing that, I'd be really grateful.

Damien Day: Had a heck of a job getting the guy to let go of it.
Dave Charnley: Yeah, I can imagine.
Damien Day: Had to saw his fingers off in the end.
Dave Charnley: [Putting the gun down] You sawed the fingers of a dead soldier?
Damien Day: Well, I wouldn't saw the fingers off a live one.
Damien Day: What's exactly wrong with collecting weapons?
Dave Charnley: Nothing. I was interested in guns for years - then I reached puberty.

Sally Smedley: Would you stop tossing your rubbish over my desk?
Henry Davenport: What, you've got bloody airspace now?

Henry Davenport: No, I shall not stoop to her level. You see, this is ridiculous, she's only put a line down the middle of... wait a minute, that's not the middle, you've stolen some of my desk.
Sally Smedley: No I haven't.
Henry Davenport: Yes you have, you're as bad as the bloody Israelis!
Henry Davenport: Look, I need every inch I can get.
Sally Smedley: Yes, that's what I heard.

Damien Day: You were asking for it.
Dave Charnley: You putrid piece of rat droppings!
Damien Day: Look, I told you, don't mess with the big boys.
Dave Charnley: You dirty, conniving bastard!
Damien Day: Look, I'm sorry, you're just not in my league.
Dave Charnley: You have all the scruples of Mark Thatcher.
Damien Day: Now look, careful, you can go too far.

Helen Cooper: Is this it? Jonathan Atkien calling the European Union sluggish and complacent?
Dave Charnley: Well, maybe they haven't paid his hotel bill yet.

George Dent: Does the Pope shit in the woods?

Henry Davenport: I'm trying to fill in one of these National Lottery tickets. I thought I'd put down the number of times I had sex last month, but they don't go higher than 49.

Helen Cooper: I can't believe I'm saying this, Dave, but while I'm away you'll be in charge of ethics.
Joy Merryweather: It's in the dictionary, under 'E'.

George Dent: All she has to do is say, "The mood is one of cautious optimism" and flash her cleavage at the camera. A parrot with tits could do it.

Helen Cooper: We're going to have to use idiot-boards.
Sally Smedley: I think you mean cue-cards.
Helen Cooper: I know what I mean.

Dave Charnley: Maastricht?
Helen Cooper: Oh, that'll be when Sally misread the autocue, and announced to a waiting nation that the Government had finally agreed to ratify the Maastricht tea tray!