Jeremy: The fact is, though, that two middle-aged men, deeply unfit and mostly drunk, had made it, thanks entirely to the incredible machine that took us there. They said we'd never get to the Pole because of the damage the car has already done to the ice cap. Perhaps then that's what we've proved most of all, really. The inconvenient truth is, it doesn't appear to have even scratched the surface.

Jeremy: The Germans always aim high. Stalingrad by Christmas and the world by Easter, and then we'll sort out Rover.

Jeremy: The guy who was running Mazda when they were designing the RX-8 used to race cars. [laughs] And it kind of shows.

Jeremy: The next award is for the Gas Guzzler of the year. And the nominations are: The Range Rover sport, which achieved eight miles to the gallon. The Bugatti Veyron, which achieved four miles to the gallon. And Hemel Hempstead. That actually used up 60 million gallons of fuel, didn't move an inch!

Jeremy: The nipple is off, the tube is in the hole... I will be needing some pump.

Jeremy: The only reason you two didn't buy a Ford Sierra Sapphire Cosworth is because you've forgot about it.

Jeremy: The Pet Cop Boys are here. No, wait. [reads Richard's car-door graphic] The Police.
Richard: Yeah, well, the police are coming... [indicates door] "The Police".
Jeremy: De do do do, de da da da.

Jeremy: The Porsche Cayenne: the first car ever to be named after an ingredient.

Jeremy: The star we have tonight in our reasonably-priced car may look like a boy, but he is, in fact, called Tara. And that, I suppose, makes him a girl.

Jeremy: The thing is that Nissan have now said, "Aha, but the car you drove was sort of for a, I don't know, a small market in the south of France or somewhere." The British ones, which are going on sale in...
Richard: 'Bout, September, autumn sometime.
Jeremy: Yeah, September, October - are going to have better suspension, bigger fuel tank, different aerodynamics, better interior trim, traction control as standard - going to be completely different.
Richard: Which rather begs the question, why did they say "There's our new car! See what you think. It won't be anything like that, obviously, but there it is anyway."

Jeremy: There are shanty towns in South Africa that are built better than Renaults!

Jeremy: These cars, then, are like one of Mr. Blair's speeches, or a pensions commercial, which amounts to the same thing.

Jeremy: They make £800,000 an hour, profit. Shell.
Jimmy: An hour? That's more than I make in a week!

Jeremy: This car has one of the world's great engines, a big, gurgling V8 with huge torque and an even huger thirst. Flat-out, at 165 miles an hour, this car is using a kilo of fuel every minute. That's jet fighter consumption, but then it goes like a jet fighter!

Jeremy: This car is plastic. It has a stupid rear spoiler and it's made by a company no one's ever heard of on an industrial estate in Leicestershire. So for posing it's hopeless. But for the undiluted thrill of driving, it's almost impossible to do better.