Daniel Cleaver

— How do you know Arsey Darcy?
— Apparently, I used to run around naked in his paddling pool.
— I bet you did, you dirty bitch.
— What about you?
— Same.

Now these are very silly little boots, Jones. And this is a very silly little dress. And these are... fuck me, absolutely enormous panties!

— Daniel, that thing you just did is actually illegal in several countries.
— Well, that is, of course, the major reason I'm so thrilled to be living in Britain today.

— So, how about a drink at my place? Totally innocent, no funny business, just full sex.
— No. I should get a taxi. But thank you for the lovely dinner.

— Bridget, you should know that there are lots of prospects here for a talanted person... for a person who, you know, perhaps for personal reasons, has been slightly overlooked professionally.
— Thank you, Daniel. That is very good to know, but if staying here means working within 10 yards of you, franckly, I'd rather have a job wiping saddam Hussein's ass.