My gut tells me more than your brain ever could – and you know that my gut is immense.
I’d much rather do what my gut tells me to than be briefed one more time by Mike Pence.
I go with my gut and decide in the moment; don’t like to prepare in advance.
I hope you’re impressed what I’m using for brains is now bursting right out of my pants.
You know I’m a genius – I heard someone say it (you caught me: I’m quoting myself).
My staff hands me binders; they’re chock full of data – I put them right back on the shelf.
I don’t need to read and I don’t need to study. I walk in a room and I just know
Exactly what needs to be done, who should do it, and how to attack it with gusto.
I know more about the economy; more than the Chair of the Fed seems to know.
I’m not at all happy with what he is doing – perhaps it is time he should go.
I dumped an advisor when he opposed tariffs and then brought in Kudlow, a pundit.
He goes on TV and he advocates free trade, but can’t explain how we will fund it.
I’ve got the highest IQ you can have, since it’s based on the size of my waist.
Tillerson called me a moron (an “effing” one) – I quickly had him replaced.
Using my gut as the source of all knowledge means I’ll carry on as a glutton.
You’ve got less brains in your head, as a rule, than you’ll find wedged in my belly button.
I know the best words and went to the best schools and my memory is just super.
Don’t be surprised that my think tank’s a toilet – and I am the Number One Pooper.
I’m even smarter than those I appoint who attended an Ivy League college.
I’ll eat those Ivies for breakfast and then spend the next hour crapping out knowledge.
No one is smarter than me (or than I). Anyway – you don’t need me to tell this.
Not only smart, but so handsome! In younger days, they say I looked just like Elvis.
I know the most about NATO and trade, infrastructure and… Do you know what?
You’ll find less smarts in a room full of Einsteins than I’ve got lodged here in my gut.