Donna Noble Quotes

Sylvia: Stay right where you are. The Doctor: You can't come with me. Wilfred: Well you're not leaving me with her. Sylvia: Dad! The Doctor: Fair enough. Sylvia yelling at the TARDIS: Come back here! Come back here, I said! Come back! Donna: Are you shouting at thin air? Sylvia: Yes. Possibly. Yes. -Doctor Who

Donna: You're not saying much. The Doctor: No, it's just— It's a funny old life. In the TARDIS. Donna: You don't want me. The Doctor: I'm not saying that. Donna: But you asked me. would you rather be on your own? The Doctor: No. Actually no. But. The last time, with Martha—like I said, it got complicated. And that was all my fault. I just want a mate. Donna: You just want to mate?! The Doctor: I just want a mate. Donna: Well you're not mating with me, sunshine! The Doctor: A mate! I just want a mate. Donna: Well it's just as well, because I'm not having any of that nonense. I mean you're just a long streak of... nothing! Alien nothing. The Doctor: There we are then.

The Doctor and Donna see each other across the room The Doctor: Donna? Donna: Doctor! The Doctor: What are, what are you—? Donna: Oh. My. God! The Doctor: How? Donna: It's me! The Doctor: I can see that. Donna: Oh this is brilliant! The Doctor: What the hell are you doing there? Donna: I was looking for you! The Doctor: What for? Donna: I read it on the internet ... it's weird... crept along... heard them talking... looked... It’s you! Th— Miss Foster: Are we interrupting you? The Doctor: Run! -Doctor Who

God has tortured Theo plenty. If suffering makes noble, then he is a prince.

Italian to the core, he did not for an instant doubt that a man could be passionately devoted to the wife he betrayed with other women.

Donna: You really believe in all that stuff, don't you? Wilfred Mott (Bernard Cribbins): It's all over the place these days. If I wait here long enough... Donna: I don't suppose you've seen a little blue box. Wilfred: Is that slang for something? Donna: I mean it. If you ever see a little blue box, flying up there in the sky, you shout for me, Gramps. Oh you just shout. Wilfred: You know, I don't understand half the things you say these days. Donna: Nor me. Wilfred: Fair do's. You've had a funny old time of it lately -Doctor Who

Donna to the policewoman: Don't you touch this car! The Doctor watching: She's not changed. Wilfred: Oh. There he is. Shawn Temple. They're engaged. Getting married in the Spring. The Doctor: Another wedding. Wilfred: Yeah. The Doctor: Hold on, she's not going to be called Noble-Temple. It sounds like a tourist spot. Wilfred: No it's Temple-Noble. The Doctor: Right. Is she happy? Is he nice? Wilfred: Yeah, he's sweet enough. He's a bit of a dreamer. Mind you he's on minimum wage. She's earning tuppence so all they can afford is a tiny little flat. And then sometimes I see this look on her face. Like she's so sad. And she can't remember why. The Doctor: She's got him. Wilfred: She's making do. The Doctor: Aren't we all. Wilfred: How 'bout you? Who've you got now? The Doctor: No one. Travelling alone. I thought it would be better. But I did some things, it went wrong. I need— {he starts to cry} Wilfred: Oh my word. I— The Doctor: Mm. Merry Christmas. Wilfred: Yeah. And you. The Doctor: Look at us. Wilfred: Don't you see? You need her, Doctor. I mean, look, wouldn't she make you laugh again? Good ol' Donna. -Doctor Who

And now he lay, a pile of clean bones and tatters of flesh, in a box in a church, and even the policeman, sent to find his killer, could summon up no real grief at his early death.

I think he felt the need to make a noble gesture, something to prove to us and to himself that it was in fact possible to put those high cold principles which Julian had taught us to use. Duty, piety, loyalty, sacrifice.

He dealt every day with people who believed they weren’t happy and who further believed that by committing some crime—theft, murder, deceit, blackmail, even kidnapping—they would find the magic elixir that would transform the perceived misery of their lives into that most desired of states: happiness

When a man loves a woman, he has to become worthy of her. The higher her virtue, the more noble her character, the more devoted she is to truth, justice, goodness, the more a man has to aspire to be worthy of her. The history of civilization could actually be written in terms of the level of its women.

It wasn’t from desperation that he did it. Nor, I think, was it fear. The business with Julian was heavy on his mind; it had impressed him deeply. I think he felt the need to make a noble gesture, something to prove to us and to himself that it was in fact possible to put those high cold principles which Julian had taught us to use. Duty, piety, loyalty, sacrifice. I remember his reflection in the mirror as he raised the pistol to his head. His expression was one of rapt concentration, of triumph, almost, a high diver rushing to the end of the board; eyes tight, joyous, waiting for the big splash. I think about it quite a bit, actually, that look on his face. I think about a lot of things. I think about the first time I ever saw a birch tree; about the last time I saw Julian; about the first sentence that I ever learned in Greek. . Beauty is harsh.

Exactly what I said: she’s still a child in many ways, so she’s discovering all the fine and noble causes for the first time, and she still sees each one as a discrete unit: she hasn’t seen the connections or contradictions among them; not yet.’ She

During his life, Brunetti had often heard people begin sentences with, ‘If it weren’t for him . . .’ and he could not hear the words without substituting Sergio’s name. When Brunetti, always the acknowledged scholar of the family, was eighteen, it was decided that there was not enough money to allow him to go to university and delay the time when he could begin to contribute to the family’s income. He yearned to study the way some of his friends yearned for women, but he assented to this family decision and began to look for work. It was Sergio, newly engaged and newly employed in a medical laboratory as a technician, who agreed to contribute more to the family if it would mean that his younger brother would be allowed to study. Even then, Brunetti knew that it was the law he wanted to study, less its current application than its history and the reasons why it developed the way it had. Because there was no faculty of law at Ca Foscari, it meant that Brunetti would have to study at Padova, the cost of his commuting adding to the responsibility Sergio agreed to assume. Sergio’s marriage was delayed for three years, during which time Brunetti quickly rose to the top of his class and began to earn some money by tutoring students younger than himself. Had he not studied, Brunetti would not have met Paola in the university library, and he would not have become a policeman. He sometimes wondered if he would have become the same man, if the things inside of him that he considered vital would have developed in the same way, had he, perhaps, become an insurance salesman or a city bureaucrat. Knowing idle speculation when he saw it, Brunetti reached for the phone and pulled it towards him.

It’s convenient for us to think that the nasty emotions, hate and anger, can adhere to the lower orders, as if they owned them by right. So that leaves us, not surprisingly, to lay claim to love and joy and all those highsouled things.’ He’d tried to protest, but she’d cut him short with a gesture. ‘They love, the stupid and the dull and the crude, quite as strongly as we do. They just can’t dress their emotions up in pretty words the way we do.

Brunetti asked, surprised how painful he still found the thought of his mother. He had tried for the last year, with singular lack of success, to tell himself that his mother, that bright-spirited woman who had raised them and loved them with unqualified devotion, had moved off to some other place, where she waited, still quick witted and eager to smile, for that befuddled shell that was her body to come and join her so that they could drift off together to a final peace.

Qualche garbuglio si troverà.

Brunetti picked up his and took a small sip. ‘I’m probably quoting him badly, but somewhere he says that the laws of the state will take care of public crimes, and that’s why we need religion, so that we can believe divine justice will take care of private crime.

not to make the mistake of thinking that the perfection of the yoga asanas is the goal, or that you’ll be good at yoga only once you’ve mastered the more difficult postures. The asanas are useful maps to explore yourself, but they are not the territory. The goal of asana practice is to live in your body and to learn to perceive clearly through it. If you can master the Four Noble Acts, as I like to call them, of sitting, standing, walking, and lying down with ease, you will have mastered the basics of living an embodied spiritual life.

Well, he'd gone this far, animated by nothing more noble than curiosity, he told himself as he studied the face of the man in the mirror, pushing his collar down over his neatly knotted tie. The man's mind slipped into English: The cat's got your tongue. Curiosity killed the cat. To stay in vein, the man in the mirror gave a Cheshire smile, and Brunetti left the house.

We can assess our practice by asking only whether Yoga practice is building our integrity as a human being and helping us live as an expression of our most noble virtues. Whether our practice strengthens our ability to be present with all that we experience is the only criteria we need for what we do or don’t do on the mat.