DOCTOR: Hold it, hold it. Now, tell them what I've got here.

DAVROS: He is holding a primed explosive device.

DOCTOR: And one false move, and it goes right down inside his chair. I'll turn Davros and his life-support system into scrap metal. Now spack off!

DOCTOR: I tolerate this century, but I don't enjoy it. Have you ever thought what it's like to be wanderers in the fourth dimension? Have you? To be exiles? Susan and I are cut off from our own planet, without friends or protection. But one day we shall get back. Yes, one day. One day.

DOCTOR: Fear makes companions of all of us.

DOCTOR: If you could touch the alien sand and hear the cries of strange birds and watch them wheel in another sky, would that satisfy you?