The Doctor: Mauve Alert!
Rose: What's that?
The Doctor: Intergalactic Distress Signal.
Rose: Should that be a red alert?
The Doctor: That's just humans. By everyone else's standards, red's camp. Oh, the misunderstandings—all those Red Alerts, all that dancing.
Capt. Jack Harkness: Could you switch off your cell phone? No, seriously, it interferes with my instruments.
Rose: You know, no one ever believes that.
The Doctor: So that's what you do, is it, Nancy?
Nancy: What is?
The Doctor: Soon as the sirens go, you find a big fat family meal, still warm on the table with everyone down in the air raid shelter, and bingo! Feeding frenzy for the homeless kids of London Town! Puddings for all... as long as the bombs don't get you!
Nancy: Something wrong with that!?
The Doctor: Wrong with it?! It's brilliant! I'm not sure if it's Marxism in action or a West End musical!
The Doctor: Amazing.
Nancy: What is?
The Doctor: 1941. Right now, not very far from here, the German war machine is rolling up the map of Europe. Country after country, falling like dominoes. Nothing can stop it, nothing. Until one tiny, damp little island says "No. No, not here." A mouse in front of a lion. You're amazing, the lot of you. I don't know what you did to Hitler, but you frighten the hell out of me.
The Doctor: You're very sick.
Doctor Constantine: Dying, I should think, I just haven't been able to find the time. Are you a doctor?
The Doctor: I have my moments.
Doctor Constantine: Before this war began, I was a father and a grandfather. Now I'm neither, but I'm still a doctor.
The Doctor: Yeah. I know the feeling.
The Doctor: It's my nose; it has special powers.
Nancy: Yeah? That why it's so...?
The Doctor: What?
Nancy: Nothing.
The Doctor: What?
Nancy: Nothing. Do your ears have special powers too?
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