Boris Johnson
British journalist and Politician, who serves as the current Mayor of London.
I can't remember what my line on drugs is. What's my line on drugs?
Labour's appalling agenda, encouraging the teaching of homosexuality in schools, and all the rest of it.
The dreadful truth is that when people come to see their MP, they have run out of better ideas.
Johnson: This is fantastic to listen to. Enough of this gastronomic metaphor!
I'm a rugby player, really, and I knew I was going to get to him, and when he was about two yards away I just put my head down. There was no malice. I was going for the ball with my head, which I understand is a legitimate move in soccer.
Yes, cannabis is dangerous, but no more than other perfectly legal drugs. It's time for a rethink, and the Tory party - the funkiest, most jiving party on Earth - is where it's happening.
I'm having Sunday lunch with my family. I'm vigorously campaigning, inculcating my children in the benefits of a Tory government.
I have as much chance of becoming Prime Minister as of being decapitated by a frisbee or of finding Elvis.
Unlike the current occupant of the White House, he has no difficulty in orally extemporising a series of grammatical English sentences, each containing a main verb.
I forgot that to rely on a train, in Blair's Britain, is to engage in a crapshoot with the devil.
The President is a cross-eyed Texan warmonger, unelected, inarticulate, who epitomises the arrogance of American foreign policy.
The excitement is growing so much I think the Geiger counter of Olympo-mania is going to go zoink off the scale.
We are confident in our story and will be fighting this all the way. I am very sorry that Alastair Campbell has taken this decision but I can see that he got his tits in the wringer.
It was a stellar performance. I may as well give up now and make way for an older man.
In 1904, 20 per cent of journeys were made by bicycle in London. I want to see a figure like that again. If you can't turn the clock back to 1904, what's the point of being a Conservative?
Some readers will no doubt say that a devil is inside me; and though my faith is a bit like Magic FM in the Chilterns, in that the signal comes and goes, I can only hope that isn't so.
Old Man Howard, that Old Man Howard, he just keeps rolling, just keeps rolling.
Nothing excites compassion, in friend and foe alike, as much as the sight of you ker-splonked on the Tarmac with your propeller buried six feet under.
There is absolutely no one, apart from yourself, who can prevent you, in the middle of the night, from sneaking down to tidy up the edges of that hunk of cheese at the back of the fridge.
I think I was once given cocaine but I sneezed so it didn't go up my nose. In fact, it may have been icing sugar.