… and it e n d u r e s
till the e n d o f t i m e .
i nearly got it wrong. that was you, m y f r i e n d – making me scared. making me feel like a bloody idiot. […] don’t you ever tell me to mind my language, don’t you ever tell me to take the stabilizers off my bike and don’t you dare lump me in with all the rest of all the little humans that you think are so tiny and silly and predictable. you walk our earth, doctor. you breathe our air. you make us your friend, then that is your moon too and you can damn well help us when we need it.
We’re all stories, in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?
go on, you can clear off, get back in your lonely—your lonely bloody tardis and you don’t come back.
i, i l o v e y o u.
quite right, too.
When the sun dies
and the stars fade from view
Our love will remain real and true.
the thing is – the immensely important thing about the doctor is that he honestly thought he was doing the best thing for clara. and that matters because when clara confronted him about it he didn’t make a huge fuss or yell right back at her – something he most certainly would have done with anyone else – he was speechless, he just stared at her, he was lost, because clara is his conscience, she’s his moral compass, his guide to what’s right and wrong, and he was so proud with what he has done and her reaction left him so lonely and so utterly lost and these two are killing me
say you love me 