You need to grow some Presidential-sized balls.

Mellie: They want to go public.
Cyrus: Aren't you part of 'they' now? One-third of some secret, unholy political trinity.

[to Olivia] I am a monster, but honey, I am your monster.

[to Olivia] The love of your life is a red-handed, cold-blooded killer. That is what you're dealing with. That is who you love.

I've moved Heaven and Earth to save you from yourselves. I have lied for you. I have stolen for you. I have cheated for you. I have killed for you. I have almost died for you. And you, you two are so stupid and romantic and high on your own doomed love, Romeo and Juliet, Dear Diary nonsense that you won't even save your own lives, but I am being dramatic?

Cyrus: Let me get this straight. Highly trained Black Ops assassins broke into your home and tried to kill you and instead of, oh, making a run toward reason, instead of the possibility of death making you decide that maybe it's better to be single, you have decided that the killers were merely firing heart-shaped bullets made out of bubbles and candy to signify that you and your boyfriend Fitzy are MFEO, made for each other?
Olivia: Cyrus, you're being dramatic.

[to Hollis] Talking about murder in the White House in front of the President is like talking about sex in the Vatican in front of the Pope. We do not do it.

You love this job? You love being President? You give for what you love.

The thing about Mellie right now, the thing you don't seem to realize, is that she's very dangerous right now. She's a walking suitcase nuke waiting to go boom because she's not thinking like the First Lady. She's not thinking like the political animal I know she can be. She's thinking like a wife. She's thinking like a woman scorned. She's thinking like someone whose heart has been broken one too many times. She's a credible threat right now, sir.

Olivia: I'm done with him, Cy.
Cyrus: Done done or heavy phone breathing done?

Mellie: Tell Fitz he has 36 hours to convince me in person that he regrets the unfortunate choices he's made and truly wants to recommit himself to his wife and children. If he doesn't, he will have the pleasure of seeing the First Lady of the United States call her husband a whore-loving bastard on national television.
Cyrus: You wouldn't.
Mellie: Call my bluff, Cy. I dare you.

I'm asking you to be an adult. Stop holding your breath. Quit stomping your feet. It's time to pick up your toys like a good girl and act like the First Lady of the United States of America.