Rumpty!" he muttered, which was very rude if you were one of the few people in the universe who understood what it meant.

It's not for me to share the meanings of others. I am only in charge of my own.

He's like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night, and the storm in the heart of the sun. He's ancient and forever. He burns at the center of time and he can see the turn of the universe. And... he's wonderful.

John: I'm experiencing an odd sensation. I think it might be patriotism. Spitfire: Steady. Too much of that can damage your health.

I don't think [Russell T Davies] sits up at night worrying about canonicity, except for the times when I'm pretty sure he does.

The brilliant escape, the funny line to cap it, despite the lack of timing. And the girl was still dead. The last act had not materialised. The world, and himself, remained so far from what they should be: so imperfect.

Rumpty!" he muttered, which was very rude if you were one of the few people in the universe who understood what it meant.