Of course Josiah Bartlet is the President on the fictional West Wing, but it wouldn't be the first time life will have imitated art.
Bartlet: Forgive me, Dr. Jacobs . . . are you an M.D.?
Jacobs: A Ph.D.
Bartlet: In psychology?
Jacobs: No, sir.
Bartlet: Theology?
Jacobs: No.
Bartlet: Social work?
Jacobs: I have a Ph.D. in English Literature.
Bartlet: I’m asking, because on your show people call in for advice and you go by the title ‘doctor,’ and I didn’t know if maybe your listeners were confused by that and assumed you had advanced training in psychology, theology, or health care.
Jacobs: I don’t believe they are confused. No, sir.
Bartlet: Good. I like your show. I like how you call homosexuality an abomination.
Jacobs: I don’t say homosexuality is an abomination, Mr. President. The Bible does.
Bartlet: Yes, it does. Leviticus 18:22. I wanted to ask you a couple of questions while I had you here. I’m interested in selling my youngest daughter into slavery as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. She’s a Georgetown sophomore, speaks fluent Italian, always cleared the table when it was her turn. What would a good price for her be?
Bartlet: While thinking about that, can I ask another? My chief of staff, Leo McGarry, insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly says he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself or is it OK to call the police?
Bartlet: Here’s one that’s really important, ‘cause we’ve got a lot of sports fans in this town. Touching the skin of a dead pig makes one unclean, Leviticus 11:7. If they promise to wear gloves, can the Washington Redskins still play football? Can Notre Dame? Can West Point?
Bartlet: Does the whole town really have to be together to stone my brother John for planting different crops side by side?
Bartlett: Can I burn my mother in a small family gathering for wearing garments made from two different threads?
Bartlet: Think about those questions, would you? One last thing. While you may be mistaking this for your monthly meeting of the ignorant tight-ass club, in this building when the President stands, nobody sits.
Bartlet: Toby.
Toby: Yes, Mr. President?
Bartlet: That’s how I beat ‘em.