A better time. A simpler time,' said the Doctor. 'That's what we all yearn for. The pain of wanting to belong somewhere. To go home.

I've told you, I don't know!' bellowed the Doctor, angrily. 'I can't have an answer for everything.'Oh, that's a good one, thought Ace.

You know, the Elizabethans thought nostalgia was a diagnosable disease. Perhaps they were right.

I know that what's done … is done. No sense living in the past. The only way for me is forward. Always forward.

Any time, any place, any where. He's not called Doctor Martini, is he?