The Doctor: I can't see! I'm blind!
Madge Arwell: Oh, no, love, no. I think you've just got your helmet on backwards. How did you manage that?
The Doctor: I got dressed in a hurry.
The Doctor: I just need to find the, uh... the key.
Madge Arwell: Ooh, do you want me to do it with a pin? I'm good with a pin.
The Doctor: Multidimensional, triple-encoded temporal interface. Not really susceptible to pointy things.
Madge Arwell: Got it.
The Doctor: Okay. Suddenly, the last 900 years of time travel seem a bit less secure.
The Doctor: Right, then. May I take your cases?
Madge Arwell: Thank you.
Lily Arwell: Thank you.
Cyril Arwell: Thank you.
The Doctor: Lovely. Would you mind carrying them for me? I need to show you around.
Madge Arwell: Are you the new caretaker?
The Doctor: Usually called "The Doctor." Or "The Caretaker." Or "get off this planet." Though, strictly speaking, that probably isn't a name.
The Doctor: Mum's bedroom. Grown-up. Your basic boring. Lily and Cyril's room. I'm going to be honest--masterpiece! The ultimate bedroom. Sciency wiency workbench, a jungle, a maze, a window disguised as a mirror, a mirror disguised as a window, a selection of torches for midnight feasts and secret reading, zen garden, mysterious cupboard zone of tranquility, rubber wall, dream tank, exact model of the rest of the house--not quite to scale, apologizes--dolls with comical expressions .The Magna Carta, a football, Cluedo!, a yellow ball.
Cyril Arwell: Where are the beds?
The Doctor: Well, I couldn't fit everything in. There had to be sacrifices. Anyway, who needs beds when you've got... hammocks! I know.
Cyril Arwell: How do you get on?
The Doctor: Watch and learn, kid. (throws himself in, misses)
Madge Arwell: For god's sake.
The Doctor: That hammock has developed a fault.
Madge Arwell: I don't know why I keep shouting at them.
The Doctor: Because every time you see them happy, you remember how sad they're going to be. And it breaks your heart. Because what's the point in them being happy now if they're going to be sad later? The answer is, of course, because they are going to be sad later.
Lily Arwell: Well, what are you doing?
The Doctor: Rewiring.
Lily Arwell: Why would you rewire a wardrobe?
The Doctor: Have you seen the way I dress?
Ven-Garr: Sorry, sir, she's wearing wool, sir. Natural fabrics, they interfere with...
Droxil: Please say we can tell the difference between wool and sidearms.
Ven-Garr: We can tell the difference, sir.
Droxil: Can we?
Ven-Garr: Not always, sir, no.
Billis: Sir, I think she's a time traveler.
Droxil: And we're sure it's not her cardigan?
Droxil: Ma'am, please stop crying. I can't interrogate you while you're crying. This is a military engagement! There's no crying in military engagements!
Billis: Um, sir, uh, with regret. I'm going to have to lower my gun.
Billis: She is a crying, unarmed, female civilian. I'm thinking of the visual.
Droxil: Nobody's looking.
Billis: Doesn't mean there's no visual.
Droxil: That's exactly what "nobody's looking" means. It means there's no visual!
The Doctor: Happy crying. Humany wumany.
Reg Arwell: What the hell was that?
Madge Arwell: Just the caretaker returning to the Time Vortex. It's a lovely place. I've been there myself. Shall we go downstairs?
Amy: So, you’re not dead.
The Doctor: And a Happy New Year!