MASTER: I hope I'm not interrupting anything important.

DOCTOR: No, no, indeed not. You've come here to kill me, of course.

MASTER: But not without considerable regret.

DOCTOR: How very comforting.

MASTER: You see, Doctor, you're my intellectual equal. Almost. I have so few worth opponents. When they've gone, I always miss them.

DOCTOR: How did you get in here?

MASTER: Oh, don't be trivial, Doctor. I see you've been working on the Nestene autojet. My own small contribution to their invasion plan.

DOCTOR: Vicious, complicated and inefficient. Typical of your way of thinking.

MASTER: Now, come, come, Doctor. Death is always more frightening when it strikes invisibly.

Doctor: And how old am I?

(The Doctor swished his stick again, gazed at the little stream running between the bushes, the marble bridge.)

Doctor: Old enough to know better,’ he answered himself. ‘Old enough not to leave my friends on an alien planet while I wallow in self-pity up here. Old enough to know evil when I see it, and try to put a stop to it.

(He wiped his eyes, pulled at the lapels of his jacket, and set off purposefully down the path. There was a job to do.)

DOCTOR : Injustice is the rule, but I want justice. Suffering is the rule, but I want to end it. Despair accords with reality, but I insist on hope. I don't accept it because it is unacceptable. I say no.

Doctor: I can't. Only... it's always easy to see a great mastermind at work behind thing. And they do exist - believe me, I've met quite a few. But the thing is, people are such frail, weak beings. It doesn't need a man twirling a black cape. Some of the worst decisions in history have been made in rooks by people who meant well. There's a reason they say nothing good ever comes out of a commitee. Beware of Focus Groups, Working Parties, Conference Calls, and people who find ninety-nine reasona to say no before they find a single reason to sat yes. It's these people who are responsible for most of the evil in the universe. And it's why they're all unaccountable. None of them can even remember making the big, awful decision. No one person decided to build a Death Ray. Perhaps someone can remember making some useful tweaks to the firing nozzle, a few good suggestions at an away day about the Death Ray logo, or perhaps deciding that the nice big button should be red...but...oh, I'm always asked what the end of the universe will be like. It'll be a room full of people fighting politely over the last chocolate biscuit as they squeeze in one final meeting about how terribly dark it's getting.