ALEX: I mean, he's scared to death of everything.

DOCTOR: Pantaphobia.

ALEX: What?

DOCTOR: That's what it's called. Pantaphobia. Not a fear of pants though, if that's what you're thinking. It's a fear of everything. Including pants, I suppose, in that case.

ALEX: No one's going to tell us how to run our lives. I don't care who you are or what wheels have been set in motion. We'll sort it.

DOCTOR: I'm not just a professional. I'm the Doctor.

ALEX: What's that supposed to mean?

DOCTOR: It means I've come a long way to get here, Alex. A very long way. George sent a message. A distress call, if you like. Whatever's inside that cupboard is so terrible, so powerful, that it amplified the fears of an ordinary little boy across all the barriers of time and space.

ALEX: Eh?

DOCTOR: Through crimson stars and silent stars and tumbling nebulas like oceans set on fire. Through empires of glass and civilizations of pure thought, and a whole, terrible, wonderful universe of impossibilities. You see these eyes? They're old eyes. And one thing I can tell you, Alex. Monsters are real.

ALEX: You're not from Social Services, are you?