I would rather be confused for 10 minutes than bored for 5 seconds.

Wilf: God bless the cactuses! The Doctor: That's cactI. Alien: And that's racist!

Daleks: [simultaneously] Exterminate! Exterminate! [They fire their weapons, none of which so much as touch the Doctor] The Doctor: Is that it? Useless! Nul points! [to Rose and Jack] It's all right, you can come out; that forcefield can hold back anything! Jack Harkness: Almost anything. [pause] The Doctor: Yes, but I wasn't going to tell them that. Thanks.

There's nothing better than a party that turns into a death trap.

You are worthy of love and respect. You are beautiful, gifted, and intelligent. Don't let the storm make you forget it.

Harriet Jones: Did you notice when they fart, if you'll pardon the word, it doesn't just smell like a fart, if you'll pardon the word, it's something else. What is it? It's more like, um... Rose Tyler: Bad breath. Harriet Jones: That's it! The Doctor: Calcium decay. Now that Narrows it down!.. Calcium phosphate. Organic calcium. Living calcium. Creatures made out of living calcium. What else - what else? Hyphenated surnames. Yes! That narrows it down to one planet! Raxacoricofallapatorius! Mickey Smith: [sarcastically] Oh yeah, great! We can write 'em a letter.

Writing isn't just a job that stops at six thirty... It's a mad, sexy, sad, scary, ruthless, joyful, and utterly, utterly personal thing. There's not the writer and then me; there's just me. All of my life connects to the writing. All of it.