During the color-mixing for the elderly-friendly Fiat (Multipla) Rover James: "So you can make any color we want? Can you do my left nipple?"

Shut up with all your terrible banter!!!

(Upon seeing a gentleman with shoulder-length hair in the audience): "Jesus is here!"

You aren't allowed to have a party, you aren't allowed to have music, you aren't allowed to play ball games, you aren't allowed to have a camp fire, you have to park within two feet of a post, you have to keep quiet, you have to be in bed by eleven. This is not a holiday, it's a concentration camp!

POWER!!!!!!!!!!

Driving most supercars is like trying to manhandle a cow up a back staircase. . .this is like smearing honey into Keira Knightly. -driving the Audi R8

Every year, the world's Golf GTI enthusiasts congregate in a field in Austria, and they talk about fuel injection and wear jumpers with "GTI" on them. Frankly I'd rather blow-torch my nipples off.

As useful as a snooze alarm on a smoke detector

On the Porsche Boxster “It couldn't pull a greased stick out of a pig’s bottom.

Some Poos Come Out

... And across the line!

And again, I'm the voice of reason and commen sence

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.

On the Porsche Cayman S “There are many things I’d rather be doing than driving it, including waiting for Bernard Manning to come off stage in a sweaty nightclub, and then licking his back clean.”

I don't understand bus lanes. Why do poor people have to get to places quicker than I do?

By the end of the night, I was hoping to be in a rather different kind of hedge, but there you go

'Jean Alesi - who I used to hero worship - is now playing with my genitals.'

The old Aston Martin DB7 was just a Jag in drag. It was an XJ-S in a party frock. This (the Aston-Martin DB-9) is completely different.

This car was so exciting, I actually needed windscreen wipers on the inside

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

On the Mercedes CLS55: Braking in this car is so brutal, it would be less painful to actually hit the tree you were trying to miss.

Volkswagen Jetta "I’d love to meet the man who styled the exterior, to find out if he’d done it as some sort of a joke. But mostly I’d like to meet the man who simply didn’t bother at all with the interior. Because looking at that dashboard gives you some idea of what it might be like to be dead."

I agree the price is a bit steep, it's perilously close to the Ferrari 599, but honestly, you cannot buy a DB9 anymore; you just can't do it.  Because one day, you will be sitting at a set of lights, someone will pull up alongside in one of these and you will feel hopeless and inadequate, and you will have to kill yourself.

Clarkson on saving money How's this for an idea?...never brake

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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