“When one thing takes another away, what do we call that?” she asked my class. “Homicide!” I called out”

“In our country for all her greatness there is one thing she cannot do and that is translate a person wholly out of one class into another. Perfect translation from one language into another is impossible. Class is the British language.”

“All this bunch of so-called 'adults' was doing was making enemies of one another when what they really needed to be concentrating on was how to get out alive.”

“Aren't you going to answer it?" Lopez asked."I'm afraid it's my mother," I said."She calls on Sundays?""No, she calls whenever things are going badly.”

“Then what do we call you?" another of the heat forms asked. "We are Rutan." "Our species need something a little more particular," the first heat form of the Time Lord said. "I think we’ll call you Fred, for ease of reference.”

“I would pick them when they bloomed. And when she called me home for supper, I'd place them in her hair and the contrast would take my breath away.”