Quotes from Michael Wolff

Clark, forty-five, was a Wesleyan graduate (possibly the only graduate from the famously liberal school to work for Trump or even vote for him) and a close associate of Bill Stepien's. He had become a kind of self-appointed sheriff, trying to keep the grifters, kooks, and obvious self-dealers out of Trumptown—and away from the campaign's money.

For all of Hannity's flattery, for all of his zealous commitment to the president, Trump, in almost equal proportion, had become disdainful of him. This was partly standard practice. Sooner or later, Trump felt contempt for anyone who showed him too much devotion. "Hating himself, he of course comes to hate anyone who seems to love him," analyzed Bannon.

There was now a fair amount of back-of-the-classroom giggling about who had called Trump what. For Steve Mnuchin and Reince Priebus, he was an "idiot." For Gary Cohn, he was "dumb as shit." For H. R. McMaster he was a "dope." The list went on.

And Murdoch, finally arriving at the party he was in more than one way sorely late to, was as subdued and thrown as everyone else, and struggling to adjust his view of a man who, for more than a generation, had been at best a clown prince among the rich and famous.

It's all exaggerated. My exaggerations are exaggerated.

This was the job Bannon a week later.

Bob and Rebekah Mercer, who had set themselves up as almost professional fools.

Scaramucci also took on Steve Bannon: "I'm not Steve Bannon. I'm not trying to suck my own cock." (In fact, Bannon learned about the piece when fact-checkers from the magazine called him for comment about Scaramucci's accusation that he sucked his own cock.)

the more doubts gathered around Flynn, the more certain the president became that Flynn was his all-important ally.

After months of defending Bannon against liberal media innuendo, Kushner had concluded that Bannon was an anti-Semite. That was the bottom-line issue.

Among Trump's first moves as president was to have a series of inspirational photographs in the West Wing replaced with images of big crowd scenes at his inaugural ceremony.

So frustrating that they just want to get the deal done—get their fee and get out. If the client won't acknowledge the rituals in a highly ritualized situation…if people don't listen, if they can't listen no matter how you explain…well, fuck it.

It was yet one more example, among his many now, of the comic-absurd, movielike politician who just says whatever is on his mind. Unmediated. Crazylike.

Bannon said he'd tried to push John Bolton, the famously hawkish diplomat, for the job as national security advisor. Bolton was an Ailes favorite, too. "He's a bomb thrower," said Ailes. "And a strange little fucker. But you need him.

What a fucking idiot," said Murdoch, shrugging, as he got off the phone.

the president always needed someone else to blame; that nothing bad happened to him that was not directly caused by the failure or active malice of someone else.

Bannon finally arrived. Wearing a disheveled blazer, his signature pairing of two shirts,

But one clear difference was that he had acquired almost no formal sort of social discipline—he could not even attempt to imitate decorum. He could not really converse, for instance, not in the sense of sharing information, or of a balanced back-and-forth conversation. He neither particularly listened to what was said to him, nor particularly considered what he said in response (one reason he was so repetitive).

He came out of his first long meeting with Trump thinking it had been a disconcertingly weird experience. Trump talked nonstop and constantly repeated himself.

the three men working hardest to maneuver the president—Bannon, Kushner, and Priebus.

Still, power provides its own excuses for social lapses.

There are few modern political variables more disruptive than a dedicated prosecutor