It's part of the security systems. Memory Foam. "What? That really comfy pilllow stuff?" No. It's a packing material that wipes the last few hours of your memory. They fill the room with it, box you in a crate, and haul you out into the middle of nowhere.

There used to real vampires in the Universe that could suck the life right out of you and leave you a drained husk of your former self, awake all night and unable to function in the daytime. Now you have the Internet.

Look, all I'm saying is this: if a huge, aggressive lizard person is claiming dominion over an unoccupied office chair that no one else wants, you have to sit in that chair. If you don't, they'll just claim the water cooler next. Or Darcinax-3.

What doesn't kill you makes you older.

The Laws of Time aren't mine. That's something I was wrong about when I was younger. The Laws of Time belong to no one. Not the Time Lords. Not the gods, if there are any. They're baked into the fabric of the Universe. Thankfully, that fabric is a bit stretchy ...

Well, I'm getting bored. Perhaps I should find some trouble to get into. Who's with me?

It's so hard to find good tea cakes.

Hello, Mars. I hear you're thinking about getting into a relationship with humanity. You might want to look at how they're treating their current planet. What makes you think you'll be treated any better?

The Doctor returns to the console, adjusting the coordinates to somewhere slightly different as he waits for @tardis_pup to return.

My flirting game is strong as ever. Effortless. People hardly notice that I'm even doing it.

Any other questions?