Bartlet: [standing in the National Cathedral, walking towards the altar and talking to God about Mrs. Landingham] You're a son-of-a-bitch, You know that? She bought her first new car and You hit her with a drunk driver. What, was that supposed to be funny? "You can't conceive, nor can I, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God," says Graham Greene. I don't know whose ass he was kissing there 'cause I think You're just vindictive. What was Josh Lyman? A warning shot? That was my son. What did I ever do to Yours except praise His glory and praise His name? There's a tropical storm that's gaining speed and power. They say we haven't had a storm this bad since You took out that tender ship of mine in the north Atlantic last year, 68 crew. Do You know what a tender ship does? Fixes the other ships. Doesn't even carry guns, just goes around, fixes the other ships and delivers the mail, that's all it can do. Gratias Tibi ago, domine (I give thanks to You, O Lord). Yes, I lied. It was a sin. I've committed many sins. Have I displeased You, You feckless thug? Three point eight million new jobs, that wasn't good? Bailed out Mexico, increased foreign trade, 30 million new acres of land for conservation, put Mendoza on the bench, we're not fighting a war, I've raised three children... that's not enough to buy me out of the doghouse? Haec credam a deo pio? A deo iusto? A deo scito? Cruciatus in crucem! Tuus in terra servus nuntius fui officium perfeci. Cruciatus in crucem. Eas in crucem! (Am I to believe those were the acts of a loving God? A just God? A wise God? To hell with Your punishments! I was Your servant on Earth - I spread Your word and did Your work. To hell with your punishments! To hell with You!) [walks away from the altar, lights a cigarette, takes one puff, throws it to the ground, puts it out with his foot and proceeds to leave] You get Hoynes!

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