Twelfth Doctor

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Doctor Who — Incarnations of The Doctor : 1st - 2nd - 3rd - 4th - 5th - 6th - 7th - 8th - War - 9th - 10th - 11th - 12th
Companions : Jack Harkness · Martha Jones · Donna Noble · Clara Oswald · Amy Pond · River Song · Rose Tyler · Rory Williams
Adversaries : Cybermen · Daleks · The Great Intelligence · The Master · Rassilon

The Twelfth Doctor, portrayed by Scottish actor Peter Capaldi, designates an incarnation of the Doctor, the protagonist of the long-running BBC television science fiction programme Doctor Who.

Kidneys! I've got new kidneys! I don't like the colour.

2013 specials[edit]

The Day of the Doctor[edit]

(23 November 2013)
Gallifreyan General: I didn't know when I was well off. All twelve of them!
Androgar: No, sir. [Another TARDIS flies into view] All thirteen! [The Twelfth Doctor's hand and eyes appear.]

The Time of the Doctor[edit]

(25 December 2013)
[The Doctor has regenerated]
The Doctor: Kidneys! I've got new kidneys! I don't like the colour.
Clara: Of your kidneys? [The TARDIS starts shaking] What's happening?
The Doctor: We're probably crashing. Oh!
Clara: Into what?
The Doctor: Stay calm! Just one question. Do you happen to know how to fly this thing?

Series 8[edit]

Deep Breath [8.1][edit]

(23 August 2014)
The Doctor: Oh, I never bother with sleep. I just do standy-up catnaps.
Madame Vastra: Oh, really? How interesting. When do you do those?
The Doctor: Well, generally, whenever anyone else starts talking. I like to skip ahead to my bits. It saves time.

The Doctor: [runs to a door, opens it] Door. Boring. Not me. [runs to a window, opens it] Me!

Barney: I don't like it.
The Doctor: What?
Barney: Your face!
The Doctor: Well, I don't like it either! It's all right up to the eyebrows, then it just goes haywire! Look at the eyebrows. These are attack eyebrows. You can take bottle tops off with these!
Barney: They are mighty eyebrows, indeed, sir.
The Doctor: They're cross! They're crosser than the rest of my face. They're independently cross! They probably want to cede from the rest of my face and set up their own independent state of eyebrows! Oh, that's Scots... I am Scottish. Haven't I? I've gone Scottish?
Barney: Yes, you are. You are definitely Scots, sir. I... I hear it in your voice.
The Doctor: Oh, no, that's good. [he practices the 'oh' sound] It's good I'm Scottish. I'm Scottish. I am Scottish. I can complain about things, I can really complain about things.

The Doctor: [confronting the Half-Faced Man] This is your power source. And feeble though it is, I can use it to blow this whole room if I see one thing that I don't like. And that includes karaoke and mimes, so take no chances.

The Doctor: Clara, say the word.
Clara: What word?
The Doctor: They never sent you in here without a word.
Clara: I don't want to say it.
The Doctor: I've guessed it already.
The Doctor and Clara: Geronimo! [The Paternoster Gang makes its entrance.]

The Doctor: [to the Half-Faced Man] You are a broom. Question: you take a broom, you replace the handle. Then, later, you replace the brush. And you do that over and over again. Is it still the same broom? Answer: No, of course it isn't! But you can still sweep the floor! Which is not strictly relevant. Skip that last part. You have replaced every piece of yourself, mechanical and organic, time and time again — there's not a trace of the original you left — [holds up a silver tray, showing the Half-Faced Man his reflection] You probably can't even remember where you got that face from. [catches his own reflection in the tray's opposite side]

The Doctor: I'm the Doctor. I've lived for over two thousand years, and not all of them were good. I've made many mistakes, and it's about time I did something about that. Clara, I'm not your boyfriend.
Clara: I never thought you were.
The Doctor: I never said it was your mistake.

The Doctor: [to Clara] You can't see me, can you? You look at me and you can't see me. You have any idea what that's like? I'm not on the phone, I'm right here. Standing in front of you. Please, just... Just see me.

Into the Dalek [8.2][edit]

(30 August 2014)
The Doctor: Wow, a molecular nano-scaler!
Journey: You know what it does, then?
The Doctor: It miniaturises living matter. What's the medical application, though? Do you shrink the surgeons so they can climb inside the patients?
Morgan: Exactly.
The Doctor: Fantastic idea for a movie. Terrible idea for a proctologist.

The Doctor: I need something from you. I need the truth.
Clara: OK. Right, what is it? What's... [Sees the look on The Doctor's face] You're scared.
The Doctor: I'm terrified.
Clara: Of what?
The Doctor: Of the answer to my next question. Which must be honest, cold, and considered without kindness or restraint. Clara, be my pal. Tell me... am I a good man?
Clara: I... don't know.
The Doctor: [sighs] Neither do I.

The Doctor: Dalek mutants are born hating. This is what stokes the fire, extinguishes the tiniest glimmer of kindness, compassion. Imagine the worst possible thing in the Universe, and then don't bother because you're looking at it right now. This is evil refined as engineering.

"Rusty" the Dalek: Victory is yours. But it does not please you.
The Doctor: You looked inside me, and you saw hatred. That's not victory. Victory would've been a good Dalek.
"Rusty" the Dalek: I am not a good Dalek. You are a good Dalek.

Clara: [to the Doctor] You asked me if you were a good man. And the answer is, I don't know. But I think you try to be. And I think that's probably the point.

Robot of Sherwood [8.3][edit]

(6 September 2014)
The Doctor: Old-fashioned heroes only exist in old-fashioned storybooks, Clara.
Clara: What about you?
The Doctor: Me?
Clara: Yeah. You. You stop bad things happening every minute of every day. That sounds pretty heroic to me.
The Doctor: [modestly] Just passing the time.

The Doctor: You're not serious.
Robin: [amused] I'm many things, sir, but I'm never that. Robin Hood laughs in the face of all. Ha. Ha.
The Doctor: And do people ever punch you in the face when you do that?
Robin: Not as yet.
The Doctor: Lucky I'm here, then, isn't it?

Robin: So is it true, Doctor?
The Doctor: Is what true?
Robin: That in the future I am forgotten as a real man. I am but a legend?
The Doctor: I'm afraid it is.
Robin: Hmm. Good. History is a burden. Stories can make us fly.
The Doctor: I'm still having a little trouble believing yours, I'm afraid.
Robin: Is it so hard to credit? That a man born into wealth and privilege should find the plight of the oppressed and weak too much to bear... until one night he is moved to steal a TARDIS? Fly among the stars, fighting the good fight? Clara told me your stories.
The Doctor: She should not have told you any of that.
Robin: Well, once the story started, she could hardly stop herself. You are her hero, I think.
The Doctor: I'm not a hero.
Robin: Well neither am I. But if we both keep pretending to be, perhaps others will be heroes in our name. Perhaps we will both be stories. And may those stories never end.

Robin Hood: And remember, Doctor… I'm just as real as you are.

Listen [8.4][edit]

(13 September 2014)
The Doctor: [sitting atop the TARDIS] LISTEN!! [later, walking around the empty TARDIS control room] Question: Why do we talk out loud when we know we're alone? Conjecture: because we know we are not. Evolution perfects survival skills. There are perfect hunters. There is perfect defense. Question: Why is there no such thing as perfect hiding? Answer: How would you know? Logically, if evolution were to perfect a creature... whose primary skill were to hide from view, how could you know it existed? It could be with us every second and we would never know. How would you detect it? Even sense it? Except in those moments when, for no clear reason, you choose to speak aloud. What would such a creature want? What would it do?

The Doctor: You know sometimes when you talk to yourself? What if you're not?
Clara: Not what?
The Doctor: What if it's not you you're talking to? Proposition: What if no one is ever really alone? What if every single living being has a... companion. A silent passenger. A shadow. What if the prickle on the back of your neck, is the breath of something close behind you?
Clara: How long have you been travelling alone?
The Doctor: Perhaps I never have.

The Doctor: I think everybody, at some point in their lives, has the exact same nightmare. [overlaying people having the same dream] You wake up… or you think you do. And there's someone in the dark, someone close - or you think there might be. So you sit up and turn on the light. And the room looks different, at night. It ticks and creaks and breathes. And you tell yourself there's nobody there. Nobody watching. Nobody listening. Nobody there at all. And you very nearly believe it. You really, really try. And then... [a hand grabs each person's ankle] There are accounts of that dream throughout human history. Time and time again, the same dream. Now, there's an obvious question I'm about to ask you. Do you know what it is?
Clara: Have you had that dream?
The Doctor: Exactly.
Clara: No: that was me asking you. Have you had that dream?
The Doctor: I asked first.
Clara: No, I did.
The Doctor: You really didn't.

The Doctor:[to Rupert] Are you scared? The thing on the bed, whatever it is… Look at it, does it scare you?
Rupert: Yes.
The Doctor: Well, that's good. Want to know why that's good?
Rupert: Why?
The Doctor: Let me tell you about scared. Your heart is beating so hard -- I can feel it through your hands! There's so much blood and oxygen pumping through your brain, it's like rocket fuel. Right now, you could run faster and you could fight harder. You can jump higher than ever in your life. And you are so alert, it's like you can slow down time. What's wrong with scared? Scared is a super power! It's your super power! There is danger in this room, and guess what? It's you. Do you feel it?
[Rupert nods.]
The Doctor: [nodding at the creature on the bed] Think he feels it? Do you think he's scared?
[Rupert shakes his head]
The Doctor: [mockingly] Nah. Loser.

The Doctor: What's that in the mirror? Or the corner of your eye?
What's that footstep following, but never passing by?
Perhaps they're all just waiting, perhaps when we're all dead,
Out they'll come a-slithering from underneath the bed.

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