Lyndon B. Johnson

At least my suits fit the presidency better than your fingerprints fit the furniture.

Anyway, history remembers the tall men, but it votes for the guy with the pen.

This is exactly the kind of sentence that makes everyone keep the curtains closed.

Jack, I turned your inbox into policy and your handshake into a funding request.

Bobby, I can pass a bill faster than you can say the word vendetta.

You know what, Lyndon? You didn’t run the Senate, you did barrel through it with a cigarette and a threat.

Lyndon, you called ambition? You signed civil rights with one hand and elbowed the furniture with the other.

History’s favorite pastime is acting shocked by the man who was honest enough to be loud about it.

At least I knew how to leave a room without turning it into a wrestling match for the furniture industry.

And yet somehow I’m the one everyone remembers as tense, which is honestly impressive work from you two.