[Natalie, a secretary, is greeting the Prime Minister]
Natalie: Hello, David. I mean "sir". Shit, I can't believe I've just said that. Oh, and now I've gone and said "shit" - twice. I'm so sorry, sir.
Prime Minister: It's fine, it's fine. You could've said "fuck", and then we'd have been in real trouble.
Natalie: Thank you, sir. I did have an awful premonition that I was going to fuck up on the first day. Oh, piss-it!

Jamie: It's my favorite time of day, driving you.
Aurelia: [in Portuguese] It is the saddest part of my day, leaving you.

American girls would seriously dig me with my cute British accent.

Colin

I am Colin. God of Sex. I'm just on the wrong continent, that's all.

Colin

[on the phone to his sister] I'm very busy and important. How can I help you?

Prime Minister

Get a grip, people hate sissies. No-one's ever going to shag you if you cry all the time.

Karen

[on phone] Hello, babe. No, I'm not busy, no - fire away.

Sarah

Prime Minister: Right. So, not quite as secret as we'd hoped.
Natalie: Right. What should we do?
Prime Minister: Smile. Give a little bow. Wave.

Daniel: And I'm afraid there's something really wrong, you know. I mean, clearly it's about his mum, but Christ, he might be injecting heroin into his eyeballs for all I know.
Karen: At the age of eleven?
Daniel: Maybe not his eyeballs, then. Maybe just his veins.

Harris Street old lady: Aren't you the Prime Minister?
Prime Minister: Yes, in fact, I am. Merry Christmas. Part of the service, now. Trying to get round to everyone by New Year's Eve.

Prime Minister: I'm not so sure politics and dating really go together.
The President: Really? I never found that.
Prime Minister: Yes, well, the difference is that you're sickeningly handsome whereas I look increasingly like my Aunt Mildred.

John: So, what do you reckon to our new Prime Minister, then?
Judy: I like him. Can't understand why he's not married, though.
John: Oh, you know the type. Married to his job. Either that or gay as a picnic basket.

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