Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I think we should never speak of this again.

Looks like witchcraft, but it isn't.

And you, you look at him like you're surprised he exists.

Elizabethan England, not so different from your time.

"...and strikes the fulsome grove of Rexel 4."

That's not going to work. The whole building's shouting that.

But these Carrionite phrases, they need such precision.

As Master of the Revels,

You're so kidding me!

I know what you're all saying,

Sad words suit not upon a lover's tongue.

- It's that Lynley bloke. -What's wrong with him?

words that last forever!

- What about the play? -Gone. I looked all over.

Come on, we can all have a good flirt later!

Pish! It's out of season to be heavy disposed.

- And you put your friend in here? -Oh, it's all so different in Freedonia.

Us two here, same bed. Tongues will wag.

It's not exactly five star, is it?

No, it says right there, "Sir Doctor and Martha Jones." It says so.

Well, if you're looking for volunteers...

And I've got to take Martha back to Freedonia.

You must be mad, Will. Love's Labour's Won? We're not ready.

You can't, it's someone else's.

Not to fear, my mothers.

Come on, lads. I think our William's found his new muse.

I've only just started believing in time travel. Give me a break.

Now, on the back, on the back!

But is it real, though? I mean, witches, black magic and all that, it's real?

Betwixt Dravidian shores

but your breath doesn't half stink.