Leo: Check with Margaret about the Mural Room.
Will: The Vice President has it.
Toby: For what?
Will: He's the Vice President, Toby. I don't have to justify his using a room.
Toby: Of course not. For what?

Leo: Don't go out there again until morning.
CJ: Okay, but the enemy's advancing and you had better give me more than a squirt gun before the sun comes up.

Leo: Even when they're here in session, getting a hundred senators in line is still like trying to get cats to walk in a parade.

Leo: Ever see Arnie Vinick campaign? He'll go into those high school gymnasiums in Iowa and New Hampshire and blow them all away. He'll shake every hand in the joint, kiss every baby, hug every widow on Social Security and sound smarter and more honest than any Republican they've ever seen. Because he is.

Leo: Everyone's walking around here like we're finished. We have 365 more days.... For both of us, sir, this is our last game. Let's leave it all out on the field.

Leo: He doesn't like chaos. We bomb some apartment building in Gaza or a camp in Syria there'll be consequences. And we can't tell him what they're going to be. Will we get drawn into a war in the Middle East? Will suicide bombers be climbing onto buses in Passaic, New Jersey instead on Tel Aviv and Haifa? ...The President is looking for answers and we don't have them.

Leo: He's a Democrat from Idaho. They use Democrats for target practice up there. Sometimes he's got to lean to the right.

Leo: He's driving from Nova Scotia to Washington?
Sam: Yeah.
Leo: How's a person do that?
Sam: Oh, my guess is, he'll take the Trans-Canada Highway to New Brunswick, then maybe catch the 1 and take the scenic route along the coast of Maine. 95 through New Hampshire to the Mass Pike, and then cut over to the Merritt Parkway round Milford.
Toby: Something really kinda freakish about you, you know that?

Leo: How are you feeling, Sir.
Bartlet: Vexed, riled, irked.
Leo: The Republican Convention.
Bartlet: Ticked, honked, pissed.
Leo: You can't take it personally.
Bartlet: That's what I keep telling myself. But when you start telling yourself that, it's too late: you're already taking it personally.

Leo: I can't support this decision. For a short period, we may be welcome. But what happens when we have to start kicking in doors? Declare martial law? Enforce curfews --
Bartlet: Once they establish a rule of law, and their economy settles down, they'll be quiet --
Leo: This isn't a romp in the desert! You're committing American lives to something that may go on for decades!
Bartlet: [angrily, nearly shouting] How are we not involved now-- [suddenly goes quiet, looking back at the house, then, quieter, shaking his head] We can't keep having this argument.
Leo: No, sir, we can't. If my counsel is no longer of use to you, perhaps�
Bartlet: So, if I disagree with your advice, you have to threaten me?
Leo: This is your own League of Nations, and it will ruin you like it ruined Wilson.
Bartlet: Okay. I'll need your successor in place before you leave.

Leo: I fought a jungle war. I'm not doing it again. If I could put myself anywhere in time, it would be the Cabinet room, on August 4, 1964. When our ships were attacked by North Vietnam in the Tonkin Gulf. I'd say, "Mr. President...don't do it. Don't consider authorizing a massive commitment of troops and throwing in our lot with torturers and panderers, leaders without principle and soldiers without conviction; no clear mission, and no end in sight." This war is at home. The casualties are in our prisons, and not our hospitals. The amount of money the American government is spending in Colombia is the exact same amount American consumers are spending buying drugs from Colombia, we're funding both sides of this war and we'll never win it that way.

Leo: I know it was a screw-up, but I loved how he stormed into it, full throttle, like there's now a Sam Seaborn-shaped hole in the wall.

Leo: I'm an alcoholic. I don't have one drink. [pauses] I don't understand people who have one drink. I don't understand people who leave half a glass of wine on the table. I don't understand people who say they've had enough. How can you have enough of feeling like this? How can you not want to feel like this longer? [pauses, sighs] My brain works differently.
...
Jordan: I don't understand how you could have a drink. I don't understand how, after everything you worked for, how on that day of all days you could be so stupid.
Leo: That's because you think it has something to do with smart and stupid. Do you have any idea how many alcoholics are in Mensa? You think it's a lack of willpower? That's like thinking somebody with anorexia nervosa has an overdeveloped sense of vanity. My father was an alcoholic. His father was an alcoholic. So, in my case...
Jordan: [nods] Ain't nothin' but a family thing.

Leo: I'm sorry but can we really justify spending $800,000 on 'A Bio-Cultural Approach to the Study of Female Sexual Fantasy and Genital Arousal'?
Toby: How can we afford not to?

Leo: If it was you whispering pardons in his ear, it was the right thing.
Abbey: I don't whisper, Leo. That's not how it works between us. My job is to help Jed be as good a President as he is a man.