Madame Vastra: Was she nice?
The Doctor: I just spoke to her.
Madame Vastra: And made your usual impact, no doubt.
The Doctor: No, no impact at all. Those days are over.
Madame Vastra: You can't help yourself. It's the same story every time and it always begins with the same two words.
The Doctor: She'll never be able to find me again. She doesn't even have the name. "Doctor." What two words?
Clara: Doctor? Doctor who?
The Doctor: When you find something brand-new in the world, something you've never seen before, what's the next thing you look for?
Strax: A grenade!
The Doctor: A profit. That's Victorian values for you.
Strax: I suggest a full-frontal assault with automated laser-monkeys, scuttle mines, and acid.
The Doctor: Why?
Strax: Couldn't we at least investigate?
The Doctor: I've had a thousand years of saving the universe, Strax. You know the one thing I've learned? The universe doesn't care.
The Doctor: Sontaran. Clone warrior race, factory produced, whole legions at a time. Two genders is a bit further than he can count.
Strax: Sir, do not discuss my reproductive cycle in front of enemy girls. It's embarrassing.
The Doctor: Typical middle child of six million.
The Doctor: Clara who?
Clara: Doctor who?
The Doctor: Oh, dangerous question.
Clara: What's wrong with dangerous?
Great Intelligence: Tomorrow the snow will fall and so will mankind.
Strax: Do not attempt to escape or you will be obliterated. May I take your coat?
The Doctor: Nice office. Big globey thing. Now, don't tell me. I see from your collar, sir, you have an apple tree and a wife with a limp. Am I right?
Dr Simeon: No.
The Doctor: Do you have a wife?
Dr Simeon: No.
The Doctor: Bit of a tree? Bit of a wife? Some apples? Come on, work with me here.
The Doctor: Talking snow. I love new things.
Great Intelligence: You are not of this world.
The Doctor: It takes one to snow one.
The Doctor: What are you doing here?
Strax: Madame Vastra wondered if you were needing any grenades.
The Doctor: Grenades?
Strax: She might have said "help."
The Doctor: Don't be clever, Strax. It doesn't suit you.
Strax: Sorry, sir.
The Doctor: I'm the clever one. You're the potato one.
Strax: Yes, sir.
The Doctor: Now go away.
Strax: Yes... Mr. Holmes.
The Doctor: Oy. Shut up! You're not clever or funny. And you got tiny little legs.
Strax: It's the human male from the Institute. What's he doing here? Suggest we melt his brain using projectile acid weapons and then interrogate him. (Vastra and Jenny stare) Other way around.
Francesca: Is it one of your stories? Your definitely true ones?
Clara: Ha. All my stories are true.
Digby: Like how you hid a bomb behind the face of Big Ben.
Clara: Accounting for my acute sense of time.
Francesca: And you invented fish.
Clara: Because I dislike swimming alone.
Strax: Sir, please do not noogie me during combat prep.
The Doctor: Oy, I told you to stay in here.
Clara: Oh. I didn't listen.
The Doctor: You do that a lot.
Clara: So you like me.
The Doctor: Who said I like you? (Clara kisses him)
Clara: I think you just did.
The Doctor: You kissed me.
Clara: You blushed.
The Doctor: I... when... shut up!
Clara: After you.
The Doctor: After you.
Clara: After you. I'm wearing a dress. Eyes front, soldier.
The Doctor: My eyes are always front. (starts climbing)
Clara: Mine aren't.
The Doctor: Stop it.
Clara: Look at this.
The Doctor: Go on, say it. Most people do.
Clara: It's smaller on the outside.
The Doctor: Okay. That is a first.