"Well, now you’ve done it, you vindictive little nincompoops."
"I was perfectly happy to bring you the big ideas and the jawdropping slap-happy upside-the-head truth about the world and the heavens and all that in them is. I could’ve kept on bringing some rock’em sock’em truth to you. But you had to get all persnickety about united party this and campaign debt that and taxpayer Secret Service what-fors. As if I needed protection when my very name is a killing word. Hello? I have CHUCK NORRIS."
"Would it have been so bad to spend the summer on the road with Uncle Newt? North Carolina, Texas, swinging through California. Wine country! So many summer fairs. We could’ve eaten frosted dough until we puked! My moose pal Lenny Kravitz was all hyped up for the brokered convention. It would’ve been great."
"Instead the establishment gets together and decides no, no more Sheldon cash, no more museum tours, no more diners. They want to shut us down because that Reed Richards, he’s a soft-hearted soul, he can’t stand a little tweaking. That ad-snorting robot. So much for history and unprecedented and maybe even a debate from the floor of the convention oh my gosh can you imagine it? Imagine the Buzzfeed gif-dump of that for two seconds, but not three, because that will blow your mind.”
"Frankly: nuts to you all. You may strike me down, but just like always, I’ll come back more powerful than you can ever imagine. Newt, Inc. will rise again like the phoenix from the ashes, and not like Famke Janssen, that raven-haired strumpet, but like the original gosh-danged flaming behemoth of the mother-loving sky. A storm’s a-comin, and in the thunder is the sound of GINGRICH.”
"Still… I would’ve taken you to so many zoos."