Das Stig is a manaic!

I’m sorry, but having an Aston Martin DB9 on the drive and not driving it is a bit like having Keira Knightley in your bed and sleeping on the couch. If you’ve got even half a scrotum it’s not going to happen.

I agree the price is a bit steep, it's perilously close to the Ferrari 599, but honestly, you cannot buy a DB9 anymore; you just can't do it.  Because one day, you will be sitting at a set of lights, someone will pull up alongside in one of these and you will feel hopeless and inadequate, and you will have to kill yourself.

Telling people at a dinner party you drive a Nissan Almera is like telling them you’ve got the ebola virus and you’re about to sneeze.

I don't understand bus lanes. Why do poor people have to get to places quicker than I do?

I'm not Just the Iron In Yard, I'm a Member

In the WOOORLD...

In resent weeks a craving for nicotine has made me angry with everything, even trees.

Whenever I’m suffering from insomnia, I just look at a picture of a Toyota Camry and I’m straight off.

You aren't allowed to have a party, you aren't allowed to have music, you aren't allowed to play ball games, you aren't allowed to have a camp fire, you have to park within two feet of a post, you have to keep quiet, you have to be in bed by eleven. This is not a holiday, it's a concentration camp!

On James May: "He also hasn't got a penis cause it came off once."

On the Lotus Elise: "This car is more fun than the entire French air force crashing into a firework factory."

And, it's made in Britain! Which is another way of saying the door is going to fall off.

Announcing the Top Gear Awards in December 2005] “Now the best 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 and didn’t move an inch.

When you reach he limits of grip, the Jaguar XJ220 demands a special technique. You put your foot on the clutch, and repeat after me: Our Father, who art in heaven, I'll be there in a minute.

we wait with anticipation

The Ferrari 355 is like a quail’s egg dipped in celery salt and served in Julia Roberts’ belly button.

M3 drivers have no friends.

I was reading The Mirror the other day and came across a letter from a reader who wrote, 'I was riding my bike to work when this red Ferrari pulled up next to me. Out of the window, Jeremy Clarkson shouted 'Get a car', and drove off.' What I actually said was, 'Get a car you hatchet faced, leaf-eating N**i.

The only person to ever look good in the back of a 4-seater convertible was Adolf Hitler.

On the Mercedes CLS55: Braking in this car is so brutal, it would be less painful to actually hit the tree you were trying to miss.

Assessing Hammond's crash: Clarkson: "you can see from the tape that the tyre is starting to come apart. Now why didn't you spot that?!" Hammond: "I had a lot on: I was doing 288 mph." Clarkson: "What do you mean you had a lot on? I can be in the office on the phone, doing the paperwork, kids are shouting at me, wife etc, but if a lion walks in, I'm going to notice it!"

Tonight, the new Viper, which is the American equivalent of a sports car... in the same way, I guess, that George Bush is the equivalent of a President.

What's worse then stubbing your toe? Finding out one of your loved ones died.

Clarksonisms

Affectionately referred to as Clarksonisms, Top Gear presenter Jeremy Clarkson's quips are the stuff of legends among car enthusiasts...

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