You Are Worthy Of Love And Respect.

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

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.

*throwing Bread Out Of Door* And Stay Out!

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.

The Doctor: The Fourth Great And Bountiful Human Empire. And There It Is: Planet Earth At Its Height. Covered With Megacities, Five Moons, Population 96 Billion. The Hub Of A Galactic Domain, Stretching Across A Million Planets, A Million Species. With Mankind Right In The Middle. [adam Faints] The Doctor: [leans Towards Rose, Still Looking Out Over The Earth] He's Your Boyfriend.