“Jane Austen thought I’d fancy you.”

“Well, yeah. And what’s so wrong with that? You’re sharp, quick-witted, lively. Not unlike an Austen heroine, in fact. It’d only make sense that you’d fall for my sort. Me and Mr. Darcy, we’ve got a few things in common.”

“What’s that?” Donna demands, words popping indignantly off her tongue. “Emotional retardation? A raging superiority complex? Come to think it, yeah, I can see the resemblance. Only difference is, he’s the most charming man in the whole history of literature, and you’re a walking, talking twig with a couple of hearts and a spaceship.”

It was nice, the Doctor thought, their silly fake love affair.

"Elizabeth the Tenth," River Song says, "Was a lioness among her people."

That's it. That's the way out of this; he'll walk the worlds like a human does, a thin clear vessel with a narrow thread of heartbeat, one thought in front of another, one life in front of another, and then -

People will probably say that a Nebraskan Admiralty should hang below Presidency of the Earth. People, as far as Penny is concerned, can suck it.

The TARDIS had outgrown its jam jar and had been transferred to a casserole dish. This was more hygienic than it sounded because Rose had never cooked a casserole in her life. The dish had been an overly optimistic gift from Jackie.

"Put that sense of adventure to good use."

"And that's obviously not it or I wouldn't have bruises all over my knees." | For some reason, that makes him flush an even deeper red.

That's it. That's the way out of this; he'll walk the worlds like a human does, a thin clear vessel with a narrow thread of heartbeat, one thought in front of another, one life in front of another, and then-

It comes as something of a shock when she throws the shoe at his head.

Rose smiles and looks at her desk, and Gwen follows her eyes, sees Rose’s hands spread wide on well-worn books, her fingers scratching at the backs of volumes older than the two of them put together. She’d never noticed before, but Rose is young, younger than she’d thought, younger than Gwen even.

"I don't know. A good night's sleep? An alien invasion tomorrow? Good chips on the weekend?

“Thanks for coming,” the woman says. “Welcome to tonight’s meeting of the Donna Noble Society.”

“Yeah. There. Another second just went past, and another, and another. That’s time travel, in a way.”

The blue suit, she says firmly, must go.

She wonders if he'll ever get better at saying it. Maybe life will be kind. [Journey's End]

“I’m just a temp,” she said again, in a small voice, overwhelmed. [Spoilers for Doctor Who 4x13 Journey's End!]

"What about licking? Am I allowed to lick?"