Anything works, as long as you write it properly.
There’s one tiny little gap in the universe left, just about to close. And it takes a lot of power to send this projection. I’m in orbit around a supernova. I’m burning up a sun just to say goodbye.
Wilf: God bless the cactuses! The Doctor: That’s cactI. Alien: And that’s racist!
There’s one thing you don’t put in a trap, if you’re smart, if you value your continued existance, if you have any plans about seeing tomorrow, there is one thing you never ever put in a trap. And what would that be sir? Me.
Maybe that’s when bad scripts are written, when you choose the theme first. I consider that I’ve something to say when I’ve thought of a person, a moment, a single beat of the heart, that I think is true and interesting, and therefore should be seen.
You are worthy of love and respect. You are beautiful, gifted, and intelligent. Don’t let the storm make you forget it.
I would rather be confused for 10 minutes than bored for 5 seconds.
Fun, that’s the word I keep on using. That’s the word I worry about when other writer’s scripts get too dark. Optimistic. Fun. And to be optimistic and have fun there’s got to be a darkness there. I think that’s a very British attitude.
What Rose brings to the Doctor’s life is completion. It’s completing a circle – he’s male, he’s alien, he’s a traveler. Between the two of them together they complement each other and discover each other. And are in love with each other – absolutely, unashamedly, unreservedly.
Rose Tyler: Can’t you come through properly? The Doctor: Then the whole thing would fracture. The two universes would collapse. Rose Tyler: So?
My God, that scene in Monster Inc. where the monsters realise that their entire world is founded on hurting children -look at that for a change! Two galumphing cartoon characters making a shattering realisation about their world and their role in sustaining it. A truly epic moment. It’s stunning.
I love having debates with people when they are debates but some people, you just can’t. Some people shouldn’t be given the oxygen.
I hate the idea that I have to represent any particular section of society; I just write good telly, that’s all.
It’s tough and it should be tough – it should never be easy to be given millions of pounds to make a drama. The coalition government is doing terrible things to the BBC, but drama will survive even if we end up putting on a play in a backroom of a pub.
There’s nothing better than a party that turns into a death trap.
Tea! That’s all I needed! Good cup of tea! Super-heated infusion of free-radicals and tannin, just the thing for healing the synapses.
Dialogue is just two monologues clashing.
You want weapons? We’re in a library. Books! Best weapons in the world.