Hold on to your spleens everyone!

I'd have [striking workers] shot. I would take them outside and execute them in front of their families.

I'll tell you what. We'll try it my way first... and then we'll finish.

Now the interesting thing about this car is that under the bonnet it doesn't have an engine. What you get instead is a small field mouse called Gerald.

[In the P45]: "AH LORRY, LORRY, LORRY, LORRY! Oh a lot of poo SHOT out then!"

Now that we have power steering, all you have to do [to race] is lie down, turn the wheel, and if you want to win all you have to do is go a little bit faster than all the others.

WHAT A MACHINE!!!!

Sure it's quiet, for a diesel. But that's like being well-behaved... for a murderer.

This is a Renault Espace, probably the best of the people carriers. Not that that’s much to shout about. That’s like saying ‘Oh good, I’ve got syphilis, the best of the sexually transmitted diseases!'

On a Chevrolet Corvette "The Americans lecture the world on democracy and then won’t let me turn the traction control off!”

It stands out like

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

Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide,Power Slide.

This is what scares me. It's called the Trojan and because it's part tank, part bulldozer, it's the king of...wherever it damn well wants to go.

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.

Britain's nuclear submarines have been deemed unsafe... probably because they don't have wheel-chair access.

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

So you’re not buying a Bristol for the number of gizmos or the way those that you do get are attached to the car. I carefully examined the front air splitter, for instance, and deduced that it must have been put there by a horse. No, really. As Sherlock Holmes himself advised: “When you have eliminated the impossible” — and it is impossible to imagine a human making such a hash of it — “then what remains, no matter how implausible, must be the truth.” So it was a horse.

...The wheel arches are flared, the car is slightly lowered, and at the back there are extra poo shoots

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.

Some say that he sucks the moisture from ducks, and his crash helmet is modeled off of Britney Spears' head... All we know is he's called the Stig!

On the Ferrari Enzo: MOMMY!!!

We'll try it my way first, and then we'll finish it.

On the Alfa Romeo Brera “Think of it as Angelina Jolie. You’ve heard she’s mad and eats nothing but wallpaper paste. But you would, wouldn’t you?”

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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