[Jeremy accidentally sprays himself in the face with some RAC-branded perfume]
Jeremy: MY EYES!
[Richard laughs]
Richard: You cretin!
Jeremy: [also laughing] I'm blind!

[Jeremy and James are discussing the Vauxhall Astra and Jeremy is lamenting its lack of grip to go with its very powerful engine]
James: It's sort of exciting though, admit it.
Jeremy: It's exciting in the same way as being shot at is exciting.

[Jeremy and James laughing at Richard Hammond's Suzuki Vitara]
Jeremy: Officer Barbie has arrived!

[Jeremy and Richard are agreeing that middle-aged men can't drive convertibles]
James: I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm going to have to stop you there. I hate to interrupt, but this is quite honestly the biggest load of limp-wristed twaddle I've ever heard in all my five weeks in television. These two - these two are not men, OK? This one, Richard Hammond, every morning sticks his head in a bucket of hair product, right? He's got a dog, but it's a poodle! And I don't know what you're laughing about, Clarkson, because you won't drink brown beer and this is the man who says, 'flatulence? Oh, it's not funny!' when clearly it is! Right. I am actually the only proper bloke on this programme, OK? I live in a tumbledown house full of old motorbikes. And I think a bloke can drive a convertible, but... it has to be the right one.

[Jeremy and Richard grumble about James' success in producing a number eleven skidmark off the line with his Porsche]
Richard: I've never seen him do anything that lairy!
Jeremy: That is... thirty-one feet.
Richard: Not bad.
Jeremy: Don't tell him that. Yeah, you did about four inches, mate. Well done.
James: Give up!
Jeremy: Yeah, that's four inches!
James: That's quite good!
Jeremy: Yeah, no, that was me the other day in a Bentley.

[Jeremy and the others are passing into Alabama and notice bullet-holes in the sign]
Jeremy: They shot their own sign. What are they gonna do to us?

[Jeremy Clarkson decides to try using explosives to speed up the demolition of one of the houses they've gone to demolish]
Jeremy: FIRE IN THE HOLE!
[The explosives are detonated, there is a lot of smoke and dust, but all that falls is the door of the house which is otherwise intact]
Richard: (a la Michael Caine) You only blown the bloody door off!

[Jeremy comments on Usain Bolt's 2008 Olympic 100m dash]
Jeremy: You set a world record with your shoelace undone.

[Jeremy describing his bike without any of the enthusiasm the other presenters have shown]
Jeremy: I've bought this, which is um... a motorcycle.
James: Well technically, this is a scooter. [picks it up into the upright position]
Jeremy: If you let go now it will just fall over.
James: No, it's got a thing called a stand!
Richard: You really don't know anything about bikes do you? I mean, really...
Jeremy: Nothing.
Richard: Tell you what I will say, it's actually very pretty. But it's going to be useless because whatever the challenge is, tiny wheels and looking good--that's not going to help.
Jeremy: Why are tiny wheels wrong?
James: Because the holes are big and the little wheels go further in.
Jeremy: What holes?
James: The holes in the road.
Richard: So you're going be [wobbly sound] all over the place.
Jeremy: How many cylinders has it got?
James and Richard: One.
Jeremy: One?
James: It's a two stroke.

[Jeremy discovers a leak in his Porsche's cooling system and "fills" it with about 10L of water before giving up, with it gushing from the radiator almost as quickly]
James: Jeremy and Richard have gone off inside to buy an egg, in the hope that we can use that old trick of mixing the egg white into the coolant system and that will find and block...
Jeremy: This, [He shows a chocolate Creme Egg] ��this is Hammond's contribution. He's bought himself a chocolate egg.

[Jeremy disputes this finding]
Jeremy: This is the safest car ever made.
Richard: I've got a scar!
James: Oh I've got bruised balls and a very badly barked cock.
[...]
Jeremy: The brilliance of this car is that you're never really going fast enough to properly hurt yourself.
Richard: You're never really going fast enough to get where you're going in it!
James: Sixty miles an hour, what was it? Thirty-five seconds.
Jeremy: How safe's that?!
Richard: Have you ever - have you ever been in a dining room doing sixty miles an hour?
James: Do you want me to show you what it's like to be smacked on the head with a wingback chair?
[...]
Jeremy: Look, the problem is taste, OK? If you [Richard] made a car to look like the inside of your house, it would have a horse in it. And you [James], your house is just full of pictures of the Queen!

[Jeremy driving a timed lap at Castle Coombe Race Circuit in his Maserati Merak]
Jeremy: 4,000 RPM! And that's all the rebuilt engine has to give!
Richard: That car is...
Jeremy:Why won't you rev?!
Richard: ...an appalling heap of junk.

[Jeremy has been looking in some boxes of Hammond's mum. He has now found something, and is practically wetting himself with laughter. He stumbles over to James whilst still laughing]
Jeremy: James, look what I just found in Hammond's box. [shows James]
James: [grimacing] Ooh...
Jeremy: They're his publicity pictures! [to camera] Look at that! [flips picture]
James: [mocking] Late-night love...
Jeremy: [mocking, in "smooth" voiceover style] Late-night love on 96.3 Cleveland FM, with Richard Hammond. [flipping through pictures] But look...
James: This is one of thirty radio stations and... [Jeremy finds the picture he's looking for] Oh! [tries unsuccessfully to stifle laughter] Hang on!
[both crack up]
Jeremy: I can see why he gets the jobs hosting Crufts. [to camera] Ready, steady... [flips picture to reveal a younger Richard with wavy, shoulder-length hair, resembling a classical musketeer... James manages to splutter "Dogtanian!" before he and Jeremy completely dissolve into laughter.]