CLARA: Do you know what? Shut up! I am so sick of listening to you!

DOCTOR: Well, I didn't do it for Courtney. I didn't know what was going to happen. Do you think I'm lying?

(Clara is crying with rage.)

CLARA: I don't know. I don't know. If you didn't do it for her, I mean. Do you know what? It was, it was cheap, it was pathetic. No, no, no. It was patronising. That was you patting us on the back, saying, you're big enough to go to the shops by yourself now. Go on, toddle along.

DOCTOR: No, that was me allowing you to make a choice about your own future. That was me respecting you.

CLARA: Oh, my God, really? Was it? Yeah, well, respected is not how I feel.

DOCTOR: Right. Okay. Er.

CLARA: I nearly didn't press that button. I nearly got it wrong. That was you, my friend, making me scared. Making me feel like a bloody idiot.

DOCTOR: Language.

CLARA: Oh, don't you ever tell me to mind my language. Don't you ever tell me to take the stabilisers off my bike. And don't you dare lump me in with the rest of all the little humans that you think are so tiny and silly and predictable. You walk our Earth, Doctor, you breathe our air. You make us your friend, and that is your moon too. And you can damn well help us when we need it.

DOCTOR: I was helping.

CLARA: What, by clearing off?

DOCTOR: Yes.

CLARA: Yeah, well, clear off! Go on. You can clear off. Get back in your lonely, your lonely bloody TARDIS and you don't come back.

DOCTOR: Clara. Clara.

CLARA: You go away. Okay? You go a long way away.