“Miranda: You say you were my guardian angel. Does that mean you watched me all the time? Like when I got my period or doctored a zit or took a shower or-Zachary: I'm an angel, not a Peeping Tom.”

“You're a guardian angel now." I was still too much in awe to wrap my mind around it, but at the same time I felt amazement, curiosity...happiness."I'm your guardian angel," he said."I get my very own guardian angel? What, exactly, is your job description?""Guard your body." His smile tipped higher. "I take my job seriously, which means I'm going to need to get acquainted with the subject matter on a personal level.”

“I call you Angel because, I honestly believe that God put an Angel on this earth just for me,” he admitted, cupping my face in his hands making me look at him. I took in a shaky breath. So it was true what Pat said. My heart was racing in my chest as he continued to speak. “The first time I saw you I thought you were an Angel straight from heaven. You were so beautiful that you took my breath away. You still do, every day.”

“Angel Bob: Doctor? Excuse me, hello, Doctor? Angel Bob here, sir. The Doctor: Ah, there you are, Angel Bob. How's life? Sorry, bad subject. Angel Bob: The Angels are wondering what you hope to achieve. The Doctor: Achieve? We're not achieving anything. We're just hanging, it's nice in here: consoles; comfy chairs; a forest... how's things with you? Angel Bob: The Angels are feasting, sir. Soon we will be able to absorb enough power to consume this vessel, this world, and all the stars and worlds beyond. The Doctor: Yeah, but we've got comfy chairs. Did I mention? Angel Bob: We have no need for comfy chairs. The Doctor: [amused] I made him say 'comfy chairs'.”

“What the hell was that supposed to mean anyway? I'm yours. My what? My slave, my guardian angel, my own personal pain in the ass?”

“I like all the angels around because they protect me and my daughter. I mean, her Dad's an angel.”