Abby Whelan Quotes
[to Leo] My jaw was wired shut for 6 weeks and I still have a pin in it that gets me a sympathetic look every time I go through security at the airport. Two of my front teeth are fake and my collarbone hurts whenever it's going to rain. Charles did that to me, so yeah, you won. Yahtzee.
Abby: Did you just say Yahtzee?
- Permalink: Did you just say Yahtzee?
Abby: I cannot cry in the White House.
Olivia: You can cry if you want to.
Abby: Press secretaries can't cry! It's, like, a rule!
- Permalink: Press secretaries can't cry! It's, like, a rule!
I am overstepping the hell out of my world right now, but if you love her at all, do her the courtesy of telling her what is going on. You may have never heard what it sounds like when Olivia wakes up screaming from a nightmare, but I have and it's awful.
I'm not asking the commander-in-chief. I'm asking the married man who used to sleep with my friend, what exactly he has done with the man she is currently sleeping with.
You ruined David Rosen. You took a good man, an honest, decent man, and you made him think that to do any good in this world, he had to be like you. A liar, a cheater, poison. Because that's what you are, Liv. You are poison. And everyone who touches you pays the price.
Abby: You make it hard for me to do my job. You undermine me here with Olivia Pope at every turn. You keep secrets from me. You make me feel...small.
Cyrus: Red, there are things that happen here in this big White House with this particular President that you will never, ever know about. Some of those things, many of those things, will involve Olivia Pope. Several of those things will make it hard for you to do your job, but you are a patriot. You are a fighter. And so you will soldier on. As for feeling small, I don't do that to you. I suspect jealousy does that to you. My advice on that is this. You are not Olivia. You will never be Olivia. Hating Olivia for your own shortcomings will not change that fact.
[to Huck and Quinn] We're in the White House. This is my turf. In this building you are no longer a zombie army of two under the influence of Olivia Pope.
Fitz: I yelled at you. I owe you an apology for that.
Abby: You do owe me an apology, but not for yelling at me. You owe me an apology for not bothering to learn my name. I'm Abby, Mr. President. Abby Whelan. I'm Scottish, by the way.
Abby: You wanted to see me Mr. President?
Fitz: You drink?
- Permalink: Um...yes.
I'm not what, a gladiator anymore? Running around doing your bidding like some mindless soldier in the Olivia Pope army?
Cyrus: Liv's on it.
Abby: You're not even a little concerned?
Cyrus: Oh, I'm concerned. I'm concerned that Fitzgerald Grant's second term as President of these United States is about to be derailed because his wife won't stop eating fried chicken long enough to put on a cocktail dress. I'm concerned that our enemies are sharpening their long knives for the rapidly approaching moment when it becomes acceptable to point out that maybe, just maybe, the President's homelife has begun to affect his decision making. I am concerned that everything I have devoted far more of my soul to than has ever been right or healthy or appropriate is about to come crashing down on a 16 year old's grave. But no, I am not concerned that Olivia Pope will fail. I am never concerned that Olivia Pope will fail.