The Day of the Doctor – ALL The Quotes, All The Feels!

Image courtesy BBC America

With “normal” Doctor Who episodes I usually do a review and include witty and memorable quotes.  That was my intent before I watched The Day of the Doctor, but all I can really muster for a review is one word: Wow!

UPDATE:  Video of the Doctor’s closing monologue embedded below quotes.

Considering the episode has been recapped, reviewed, analyzed, and speculated upon to death and because one of the best things about Doctor Who is the witty and memorable banter, I’ve decided to go with a massive collection of quotes from the episode.  In fact, I can say with a fair bit of confidence I’ve gotten all the quotes.  If you don’t believe me, just read the over 3,000 words’ worth of quotes below!

Naturally, I had to include the entire conversation between the eleventh Doctor and the Curator.  I couldn’t let Tom Baker get by without transcribing every syllable he uttered.

Before we get started, though, for the sake of clarity let’s discuss nomenclature.  Since there are multiple Doctors in this story I’m going to call Matt Smith “Eleven”, David Tennant “Ten”, and John Hurt “War”.  The rest should be pretty straightforward.

If you’ve got any comments, complaints, compliments, suggestions, additions, snarky remarks, or recipes, please, by all means, post them in the comments section below.


Allons-y and Geronimo!

All the damned quotes, people:

Eleven:  Fancy a week in ancient Mesopotamia, followed by future Mars?
Clara:  Will there be cocktails?
Eleven:  On the moon.
Clara:  The moon’ll do.

Kate:  The ravens are looking a bit sluggish.  Tell Malcolm they need new batteries.

Eleven:  Next time would it kill you to knock?

Eleven:  Kate Lethbridge-Steward, a word to the wise.  As I’m sure your father would have told you, I don’t like being picked up.
Clara:  That probably sounded better in his head.

Kate:  What’s our cover story for this?
Osgood:  Um, Derren Brown.
Kate:  Again?
Osgood:  Oh, we sent him flowers.

Eleven:  Unified Intelligence Task Force.
Clara:  Sorry?
Eleven:   This lot.  U.N.I.T.  They investigate alien stuff.  Anything alien.
Clara:  What, like you?
Eleven:  I work for them.
Clara:  You have a job?
Eleven:  Why shouldn’t I have a job?  I’d be brilliant at having a job.
Clara:  You don’t have a job.
Eleven:  I do.  This is my job.  I’m doing it now.
Clara:  You never have a job.
Eleven:  I do!  I do.

Clara:  But how is it doing that?  How is that possible?  It’s an oil painting…in 3D.
Eleven:  Time Lord art.  Bigger on the inside.  A slice of real time, frozen.

Eleven:  He was there.
Clara:  Who was?
Eleven:  Me.  The other me.  The one I don’t talk about.
Clara:  I don’t understand.
Eleven:  I’ve had many faces, many lives.  I don’t admit to all of them.  There’s one life I’ve tried very hard to forget.
(whisper):  No more.
Eleven:  He was the Doctor who fought in the Time War, and that was the day he did it.  The day I did it.  The day he killed them all.  The last day of the Time War.  The war to end all wars between my people and the Daleks.  And in that battle there was a man with more blood on his hands than any other.  A man who would commit a crime that would silence the universe.  And that man was me.

General:  The Moment is gone.
Androgar:  I don’t understand.  What is the moment?  I’ve never heard of it.
General:  The galaxy eater.  The final work of the ancients of Gallifrey.  A weapon so powerful, the operating system became sentient.  According to legend, it developed a conscience.
Androgar:  And we’ve never used it?
General:  How do you use a weapon of ultimate mass destruction when it can stand in judgment on you?  There is only one man who would even try.

War:  Time Lords of Gallifrey, Daleks of Skaro, I serve notice on you all.  Too long have I stayed my hand.  No more.  Today, you leave me no choice.  Today, this war will end.  No more.  No more.
War:  Now, how do you work?  Why is there never a big, red button?
War:  Is somebody there?
Rose:  It’s nothing.  It’s just a wolf.
War:  Don’t sit on that!
Rose:  Why not?
War:  Because it’s not a chair.  It’s the most dangerous weapon in the universe.
Rose:  Why can’t it be both?

War:  Ow!
Rose:  What’s wrong?
War:  The interface is hot.
Rose:  Well, I do my best.

Rose:  Aw, look at you, stuck between a girl and a box.  Story of your life, eh, Doctor?
War:  You know me?
Rose:  I hear you.  All of you, jangling around in that dusty old head of yours.  I chose this face and form especially for you.  It’s from your past, or possibly your future.  I always get those two mixed up.
War:  I don’t have a future.
Rose:  I think I’m called…Rose Tyler.  No.  Yes.  No, sorry.  In this form, I’m called Bad Wolf.  Are you afraid of the big, bad wolf, Doctor?

War:  I’ve been fighting this war for a long time, I’ve lost the right to be the Doctor.
Rose:  Then you’re the one to save us all.
War:  Yes.
Rose:  If I ever develop an ego, you’ve got the job.

War:  If you have been inside my head, then you know what I have seen.  The suffering.  Every moment in time and space is burning.  It must end, and I intend to end it the only way I can.
Rose:  And you’re going to use me to end it by killing them all, Daleks and Time Lords alike.  I could, but there will be consequences for you.
War:  I have no desire to survive this.
Rose:  Then that’s your punishment.  If you do this, if you kill them all, then that’s the consequence.  You live.  Gallifrey, you’re going to burn it.  And all those Daleks with it, but all those children, too.  How many children on Gallifrey right now?
War:  I don’t know.
Rose:  One day, you will count them.  One terrible night.

Ten:  There you go, Your Majesty, what did I tell you?  Bigger on the inside.
Elizabeth:  The door isn’t.  You nearly took my head off.  It’s normally me who does that.

Ten:  But then the real Elizabeth isn’t a shape-shifting alien from outer space.  And…ding!
Elizabeth:  What’s that?
Ten:  It’s a machine that goes “ding”.  Made it myself.  Lights up in the presence of shapeshifter DNA.  Also, it can microwave frozen dinners from up to 20 feet and download comics from the future.  I never know when to stop.

Ten:  Oh, stop it, it’s over.  A Zygon, yes.  Big, red, rubbery thing, covered in suckers.  Surprisingly good kisser.  Do you think the real Queen of England would just decide to share her throne with any old handsome bloke in a tight suit, just ‘cause he’s got amazing hair and a nice horse?  Oh, it was the horse!  I’m going to be King.

Ten:  We’re being attacked by a shape-shifting alien from outer space, formerly disguised as my horse.
Elizabeth:  What does that mean?
Ten:  It means we’re going to need a new horse.

Ten:  I’ll hold it off, you run.  Your people need you.
Elizabeth:  And I need you alive for our wedding day.
Ten:  Oh, good work, Doctor.  Nice one.  The virgin Queen.  So much for history.

Ten:  Oh, very clever.  Whatever you’ve got planned, forget it.  I’m the Doctor, I’m 904 years old.  I’m from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous.  I am the oncoming storm, the bringer of darkness, and you…are basically just a rabbit, aren’t you?  Okay, carry on.  Just a general warning.

Ten:  Back, both of you, now!  That’s a time fissure.  A tear in the fabric of reality.  Anything could happen.  For instance, a fez.

Eleven:  Oi!  You!  Are you science-y?
Osgood:  Oh, um, well, um, yes.
Eleven:  Got a name?
Osgood:  Yes…
Eleven:  Good.  I’ve always wanted to meet someone called “Yes”.  Now, I want this stone dust analyzed and I want a report, in triplicate, with lots of graphs and diagrams and complicated sums on my desk tomorrow morning, asap, pronto, lol.  See?  Job.  Do I have a desk?
Kate:  No.
Eleven:  And I want a desk.

Clara:  Someday, you could just walk past a fez.
Eleven:  Never gonna happen.

Elizabeth:  Who is this man?
Ten:  That’s just what I was wondering.
Eleven:  Oh, that is skinny.  That is proper skinny.  I’ve never seen it from the outside.  It’s like a special effect.  Oi, matchstick man.
Ten:  You’re not…

Ten:  Compensating?
Eleven:  For what?
Ten:  Regeneration.  It’s a lottery.
Eleven:  Oh, he’s cool.  Isn’t he cool?  “I’m the Doctor and I’m all cool.  Oops, I’m wearing sandshoes.”

Eleven: Hello, ladies.
Ten:  Don’t start.
Eleven:  Listen, what you get up to in the privacy of your own regeneration is your business.
Ten:  One of them is a Zygon.
Eleven:  Uuuuhg.  I’m not judging you.

Eleven:  One of those was a Zygon?
Ten:  Yeah.
Eleven:  Big, red, rubbery thing covered in suckers?  Venom sacs in the tongue?
Ten:  Yeah, I’m getting the point, thank you.

Ten:  We’re both reversing the polarity.
Eleven:  Yes, I know that.
Ten:  There’s two of us.  I’m reversing it, and you’re reversing it back again.  We’re confusing the polarity.

War:  Good afternoon.  I’m looking for the Doctor.
Ten:  Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place.
War:  Well, if you could point me in the general direction of the Doctor…
(Ten and Eleven both raise sonics.)
War:  Really?
Eleven:  Yeah.
Ten:  Really.
War:  You’re me?  Both of you?!
Ten:  Yup.
War:  Even that one?
Eleven:  Yes!
War:  You’re my future selves?
Ten & Eleven: Yes.
War:  Am I having a mid-life crisis?

War:  Why are you pointing your screwdrivers like that?  They’re scientific instruments, not water pistols!  You look like you’ve seen a ghost.
Ten:  Still, loving the posh, gravelly thing.  It’s very convincing.
Eleven:  Brave words, Dick Van Dyke.

War:  Oh, the pointing again.  They’re screwdrivers.  What are you going to do, assemble a cabinet at them?

War:  Timey what?  “Timey wimey”?
Ten:  I’ve no idea where he picks that stuff up.

Ten:  That is not the Queen of England.  That’s an alien imposter.
Eleven:  And you can take it from him, ‘cause he’s really checked.
Ten:  Oh, shut up.
Eleven:  Venom sacs in the tongue.
Ten:  Seriously, stop it.

War:  Are you capable of speaking without flapping your hands about?
Eleven:  Yes.  No.  I demand to be incarcerated immediately with my co-conspirators, Sandshoes and Granddad.

Ten:  The sonic won’t work on that, it’s too primitive.
Eleven:  Shall we ask for a better quality of door so we can escape?

Ten:  Why are we all here?  Me and chinny, we were surprised, but you came looking for us.  You knew it was going to happen.  Who told you?
Eleven:  Oi!  “Chinny”?
Ten:  Yeah, you do have a chin.

Zygon Osgood:  I so hate it when I get one with a defect.

Clara:  What is that?
Zygon Kate:  Time travel.  A vortex manipulator bequeathed to the U.N.I.T. archive by Captain Jack Harkness on the occasion of his death.  Well, one of them.  No one can know we have this, not even our allies.
Clara:  Why not?
Zygon Kate:  Think about it.  Americans with the ability to rewrite history.  You’ve seen their movies.

Clara:  Hang on.  Three of you in one cell and none of you thought to try the door?

Eleven:  You see, Clara?  They’re stored in the paintings in the under-gallery like cup-a-soups, except you add time, if you can picture that.  Nobody can picture that.  Forget I said, “cup-a-soups”.

Ten:  And do you know why I know that you’re a fake?  Because you’re such a bad copy.  It’s not just the smell, or the unconvincing hair, or the atrocious teeth, or the eyes just a bit too close together, or the breath that could stun a horse.  It’s because my Elizabeth, the real Elizabeth, would never be stupid enough to reveal her own plan.  Honestly, why would you do that?
Elizabeth:  Because it’s not my plan.  And I am the real Elizabeth.
Ten:  Okay, so, backtracking a moment just to lend some context to my remarks…

Priest:  I now pronounce you man and wife.  You may kiss the bride.
(Ten and Elizabeth kissing)
War:  Is there a lot of this in the future?
Eleven:  It does start to happen, yeah.

Eleven:  Right, then.  Back to the future.

Eleven:  Hey, look.  The round things.
Ten:  I love the round things!
Eleven:  What are the round things?
Ten:  No idea.

Ten:  Oh, you’ve redecorated.  I don’t like it.

Zygon Kate:  You would destroy London?
Kate:  To save the world?  Yes, I would.
Zygon Kate:  You’re bluffing.
Kate:  You really think so?  Somewhere in your memory is a man called Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart.  I’m his daughter.

Zygon Kate:  We only have to agree to live.

War:  Hello.
Ten:  I’m the Doctor.
Eleven:  Sorry about the Dalek.
Clara:  Also the showing off.

Osgood:  It’s funny, isn’t it?  If I’m a Zygon, then my clothes must be Zygon, too.  So, what happens if I lose a shoe or something?

War:  Great men are forged in fire.  It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame, whatever the cost.

Rose:  You know the sound the TARDIS makes?  That wheezing…groaning?  That sound brings hope wherever it goes.
War:  Yes.  Yes, I like to think it does.
Rose:  To anyone who hears it, Doctor.  Anyone, however lost.  Even you.

Ten:  These events should be time-locked.  We shouldn’t even be here.
Eleven:  So something let us through.
Rose:  You clever boys.

Ten:  All those years burying you in my memory.
Eleven:  Pretending you didn’t exist.  Keeping you a secret, even from myself.
Ten:  Pretending you weren’t the Doctor when you were the Doctor more than anybody else.
Eleven:  You were the Doctor on the day it wasn’t possible to get it right.  But this time, you don’t have to do it alone.
War:  Thank you.
Ten:  What we do today is not out of fear or hatred.  It is done because there is no other way.
Eleven:  And it is done in the name of the many lives we are failing to save.

Clara:  Look at you.  The three of you.  The warrior, the hero, and you.
Eleven:  And what am I?
Clara:  Have you really forgotten?
Eleven:  Yes.  Maybe, yes.
Clara:  We’ve got enough warriors.  Any old idiot can be a hero.
Eleven:  Then what do I do?
Clara:  What you’ve always done.  Be a doctor.

Clara:  You told me the name you chose was a promise.  What was the promise?
Ten:  Never cruel or cowardly.
War:  Never give up.  Never give in.

Eleven:  Gentlemen, I’ve had 400 years to think about this.  I’ve changed my mind!
War:  There’s still a billion billion Daleks up there, attacking.
Eleven:  Yep, there is.  There is, but…
Ten:  There’s something those billion billion Daleks don’t know.
Eleven:  ‘cause if they did, they’d probably send for reinforcements.
Clara:  What?  What don’t they know?
Eleven:  This time, there’s three of us.
War:  Oh!  Oh, yes, that is good!  That is brilliant!
Ten:  Oh!  Oh, I’m getting that too!  That is brilliant!
Eleven:  Ha ha…I’ve been thinking about it for centuries.
War:  She didn’t just show me any old future, she told me exactly the future I needed to see!
Rose:  Now you’re getting it.
Eleven:  Eh?
War:  Bad Wolf girl, I could kiss you!
Rose:  Yup, that’s gonna happen.
Ten:  Sorry, did you just say “Bad Wolf”?

Eleven:  Hello.  Hello, Gallifrey High Command.  This is the Doctor speaking.
Ten:  Hello!  Also the Doctor.  Can you hear me?
War:  Also the Doctor.  Standing ready.
General:  Dear God, three of them.  All my worst nightmares at once.

Ten:  General, we have a plan.
Eleven:  We should point out at this moment it is a fairly terrible plan…
Ten:  …and almost certainly won’t work.
Eleven:  I was happy with “fairly terrible.”
Ten:  Sorry, I was just thinking out loud.

Ten:  We’re positioned at equidistant intervals around the globe.  “Equidistant.”  So grown-up.

War:  Just about ready to do it.
General:  Ready to do what?
Eleven:  We’re going to freeze Gallifrey.
General:  I’m sorry, what?
Ten:  Using our TARDISes, we’re going to freeze Gallifrey in a single moment in time.
War:  You know, like those stasis cubes?  Single moment in time, held in a parallel pocket universe.
Eleven:  Except we’re going to do it to a whole planet.
Ten:  And all the people on it.
General:  What?  Even if that were possible, which it isn’t, why would you do such a thing?
Eleven:  Because the alternative is burning.
Ten:  And I’ve seen that.
Eleven:  And I never want to see it again.
General:  We’d be lost in another universe.  Frozen in a single moment.  We’d have nothing.
Eleven:  You would have hope.  And right now, that is exactly what you don’t have.
General:  It’s delusional.  Why, the calculations alone would take hundreds of years.
Eleven:  Oh, hundreds and hundreds…
Ten:  …but don’t worry.  I started a very long time ago.
First Doctor:  Warning the War Council of Gallifrey, this is the Doctor.
Eleven:  You might say I’ve been doing this all my lives.

General:  I didn’t know when I was well off.  All twelve of them!
Androgar:  No, sir.  Argh!  All thirteen!

War:  I don’t suppose we’ll ever know if we actually succeeded.  But at worst, we failed doing the right thing, as opposed to succeeding in doing the wrong.
Clara:  Life and soul, you are.

War:  I won’t remember this, will I?
Eleven:  The time streams are out of sync.  You can’t retain it.  No.
War:  So I won’t remember that I tried to save Gallifrey, rather than burn it.  And I have to live with that.  But for now, for this moment, I am the Doctor again.  Thank you.

War:  (Beginning to regenerate) Oh, yes.  Of course, it makes sense.  Wearing a bit thin.  I hope the ears are a bit less conspicuous this time.

Ten:  Trenzalore.  We need a new destination, because…I don’t wanna go.
Eleven:  He always says that.

Clara:  Oh, by the way, there was an old man looking for you.  I think it was the curator.
Eleven:  I could be a curator.  I’d be great at curating.  I’d be the great curator, ha ha.  I could retire, and do that.  I could retire, and be the curator of this place.
Curator:  You know, I really think you might.
Eleven:  I never forget a face.
Curator:  I know you don’t.  And in years to come, you might find yourself revisiting a few.  But just the old favorites, eh?  You were curious about this painting, I think.  I acquired it in remarkable circumstances.  What do you make of the title?
Eleven:  Well, which title?  There’s two.  “No More” and “Gallifrey Falls.”
Curator:  No, you see, that’s where everybody’s wrong.  It’s all one title.  “Gallifrey Falls No More.”  Now, what would you think that means, eh?
Eleven:  That Gallifrey didn’t fall.  It worked?  It’s still out there?
Curator:  I’m only a humble curator.  I’m sure I wouldn’t know.
Eleven:  Then were is it?
Curator:  “Where is it”, indeed.  Lost.  Shh!  Perhaps.  Things do get lost, you know.  And now, you must excuse me.  Oh, you have a lot to do.
Eleven:  Do I?  Is that what I’m supposed to do now?  Go looking for Gallifrey?
Curator:  That’s entirely up to you.  Your choice, eh?  I can only tell you what I would do, if I were you.  Oh, if I were you.  Perhaps I was you, of course.  Or perhaps you are me.  Congratulations.
Eleven:  Thank you very much.
Curator:  Or perhaps it doesn’t matter either way.  Who knows?  Who knows…

Eleven:  Clara sometimes asks me if I dream.  “Of course I dream,” I tell her.  “Everybody dreams.”  “But what do you dream about?” she’ll ask.  “The same thing everybody dreams about,” I tell her.  “I dream about where I’m going.”  She always laughs at that, “But you’re not going anywhere.  You’re just wandering about.”  That’s not true, not any more.  I have a new destination.
My journey is the same as yours.  The same as anyone’s.  It’s taken me so many years, so many lifetimes, but at last I know where I’m going.  Where I have always been going.  Home…the long way round.

Doctor Who returns on Christmas day!

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