I used to be a respected watcher. Now I'm a wounded dwarf with the mystical power of a doily.

Wonderful. You work on your muscle tone while my brains dribble out my ears.

The Bay City Rollers, now that's music!

I've been indexing the Watcher Diaries covering the last couple of centuries. You'd be amazed at how numbingly pompous and long-winded some of these Watchers were!

You're my Slayer. Knock his teeth down his throat!

Woman. Of course. How wrong of me to choose my own word.

Unbelievable...(as Joyce)do you like my mask? Isn't it pretty? It raises the dead! (himself) Americans!

Don't taunt the fear demon!!

Right you are. And I'm great with the pacing and the saying of 'hmmm' and 'ahhhhhh' and 'Good Lord'.

Oh, as usual, dear

You never train with me anymore, he's going to kick your arse!

The Earth is definately doomed.

Our families are in there! Our, erm, mothers and tiny, tiny babies!