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.

He'd actually done it! He leaned back into the microphone and whispered to the now silent cave: 'Come to the Cabaret!

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.

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.

Distance is always helpful, and the fact that I'm a U.S. politics junkie helps a lot.