SMITH: I've discovered a lot in the last few weeks. I've found out that being the Doctor... it's not about having special knowledge or abilities. It's about not being cruel. It's about not being afraid. There are monsters out there, yes. Terrible things. But you don't have to become one in order to defeat them. You can be peaceful in the face of their cruelty. You can win by being cleverer than they are. I tried to give up so much- my responsibilities, my past, my guilt. But others kept these things safe for me. Now, one last time, I, John Smith, will be the Doctor again, and go on an adventure, and defeat the monsters. It doesn't take an object to let you do that. It takes determination. And hope for humanity. And love.

CONSTANCE: Constance Harding. I was going to go to my first dance this year, but now, obviously, I can't. When did you come out, by the way?

(A forkful of cake stopped halfway to Benny's mouth)

BENNY: Sorry?

CONSTANCE: Your accent gives you away.

BENNY: My accent?

CONSTANCE: Yes, my dear.

(Constance sighed)

CONSTANCE: Do you know, I was hoping to go cruising, before I came out...

(Benny frowned)

BENNY: Isn't that rather the wrong way around?

CONSTANCE: I suppose so. My mother was going to come too.

BENNY: Really?

CONSTANCE: Yes, she's very gay.

BENNY: Obviously.

(Benny ate her cake thoughtfully. She raised a finger to ask a question, then lowered it again)

BENNY: You know, I think we've been talking at cross-purposes...

DOCTOR: Do you want to tell me what you told John in the glade this morning? What you were trying to whisper in his ear for so long?

VERITY: That he believes in good and fights evil. That, with violence all around him, he’s a man of peace. That he’s never cruel, or cowardly. That he is a hero.

‘They must feel safe in your hands.’

‘They aren’t. I don’t keep things safe. I used to. Perhaps. I can’t keep all the plates spinning. I drop some.’

Their hands collided across the soft expanse of Wolsey’s stomach. Smith’s hand swept right over Joan’s and she kept that hand still, accepting, the tips of her fingers gently playing with the smallest swirls of the animal’s fur.

A moment later, Smith’s hand swept back again and she looked at the top of his head as the hand passed over hers, delighting enormously that he didn’t look up and meet her gaze with something terrible and shattering like a smile.

‘Well, that is always the risk, if you’re a plate, isn’t it?’ she whispered, letting her fingers catch his cuff, but keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the fine hairs at the back of his neck. ‘If you want to be spun, then you must accept the possibility of being broken.’

(John Smith has just dismissed Bernice Summerfield’s warnings.)

Benny stopped, and watched Smith march into the school buildings.

When he was out of earshot, she swore eight times.

Smith took the apple, buffed it on his sleeve, and grinned at his reflection in it. ‘Why an apple?’

‘I had a dream. I have strange dreams. I had to give it to you. So you’d remember.’

Smith took a bite and munched thoughtfully. ‘An apple a day… saves nine. No, that’s not right. What was it that I was supposed to remember?’

‘A stitch in time? Keeps the doctor away?’ Timothy suggested smiling.