Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

You never give up.
Thank you, Martha Jones.
- And you invented it? -I developed it.
Not under any circumstances.
Fat lot of good that is now. I'm no use to anyone.
Are they dead?
Harriet, it's me! It's me! She can't hear me.
- Long time no see. - Yeah.
But why couldn't we see them?
We have waited long for this ultimate destiny.
- Tell me what they are. -It's a four and a nine.
What for? Think, Donna.
Control, I need another shift. Lock me onto the Tardis. Now.
Sarah Jane! Who's that boy?
Oh, really? What for?
Gwen.
Scattered into atoms.
The Osterhagen Key.
- They're leaving our street alone. -I've got a weapon.
Right, I'm gonna find him.
A good splodge of paint, they'd be blinded.
Everlasting death
1,500 miles, boys. And accelerating. They're almost here.
Some populated, some not. But all unconnected.
I flew into the wild and fire.
Forget about the key! And that's an order!
- It's stopped. -What do you mean?
Dad, please, come home.
Your voice is different and yet
Crucible at 90% efficiency.
Oh, I can see it.
Medical Director on Project Indigo.
Miss Foster said that was lost. But that must have been a long time ago.