I Would Rather Be Confused For 10

I Dread The Day I Leave [doctor Who], Because Then I'll Have To Go Back To Writing Bedrooms And Offices And Pubs. And Maybe A Field, If I'm Lucky.

I Hate The Idea That I Have To Represent Any Particular Section Of Society; I Just Write Good Telly, That's All.

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.

Rose:i Love You Doctor:quite Right, And I Guess If It's My Last Chance To Say It... Rose Tyler... (the Doctor Fades, Him In His Tardis, With Tear Tracks And A Tear Running Down His Cheek)

I Saw The Fall Of Troy! World War Five! I Was Pushing Boxes At The Boston Tea Party! Now I'm Gonna Die In A Dungeon.... [disgustedly] In Cardiff!