Quotes from Dave Stone

It's been going on for days now! On and on and on for days! If I hear one more sexual-chemistry-charged and mutually misunderstood argument I'm going to shoot the pair of you!

look at me,' said Fitz. 'You lost me somewhere around "substructive". Is that actually a word?

the Doctor said, as if he hadn't heard, 'but the fact remains that if we attempt to push things too far we might end up disappearing up our own singularity and, probably, take this entire section of the universe with us. And I think we've all had quite enough of that for a while.

And then things happened quickly. Too quickly, on so many wildly differing scales, for any single observer ever to fully comprehend them. And not necessarily in the entirely correct order, besides. . . In

One of the problems with travelling in the TARDIS, no matter what state of repair it might ultimately be in, is that you can leave a place of sweltering heat to find yourself in bitter cold, and you always seem to have put on the wrong clothes for it.

And I have to tell you,' he continued a little worriedly, 'that the tales of its barbarous and primitive manners are myriad. We are in a savage place here – Doctor, was it? – a place of infamy and the fecund darkness of the death of gentility. . .

Of course, discretion being the better part of valour, for the moment we might be better off heroically running away.' A

It must have been quite terrible for you, my dear,' I said, giving her a companionable and comforting pat on the head.

Several other curtains swept back to reveal a number of battered but patently alive, angry and considerably reinforced bandsmen. Reinforced in numbers, that is, and in the general strength of the weaponry they carried such as rapid-fire harmoniums, maraca-grenades and tuba-bazookas. 'You

All of which is to the purpose that I have travelled more than most, by means that provoke looks of askance at the merest telling of them,

You've left things better than you found them, and that's pretty much all that anybody can hope for.

Just feeling a little out of place, Doctor,' said Jamon. 'Indeed, some small part of me wonders if I'll ever be in place. Well, not actually a place as such, but you'll understand what I mean. Traveller is what I am, my place being forever that of a stranger on any world, in my own small way – but with the Engines of the Empire being destroyed as we speak, that life is no more.

D AVE STONE is a notorious and unconscionably indolent slug-a-bed with little or no achievement of merit to his name.

That was when I knew him before, you understand, when he could just pull stuff like that out of his, uh, hat.

To get a feel for these perambulations, one should simply imagine the bustle of the palace kitchens, say, or a bathing chamber in which a number of servants are taking some brief measure of respite from their duties. Then the Doctor and his friends run through, much to the consternation and momentary chaos of all concerned. Repeat as many times as you feel is really necessary.

As a novel, of course, the whole thing blows dead rodents somewhat more so than a dead-rodent blowing thing. What the hell do I know about writing novels? I have enough trouble dealing with all the shit that happens in real life. I

from the barracks burst bandsmen in their hundreds. Each was armed, as I had seen before, but now some were quite more armed than others.

So if you're reading this, and you know me, and I'm not dead yet, could you please come and rescue me?

For a moment he considered making a break for it – but in the end it is physically impossible for something the size and shape of a human to go up a spiral staircase over a certain speed. Besides, he had no idea what might be at the top – and he could instantly think of seven thousand, four hundred and thirty-two things that might be simply and instantly lethal.

In more than one case I saw a glockenspiel fully half the length again of the bandsman carrying it – although the particular offensive capabilities of such an instrument were at that time well nigh impossible to guess. For

Prometheus had stolen fire from the gods (from Hephaistos's forge itself, as it happens) to make the lives of mortals better, so with a masterful bit of prototypical game-theory, Zeus set up a scenario that would, metaphorically, blow up in everybody's faces and make life that much worse.

The Rules were that if he got her he'd live and if he didn't he'd die, simple as that. We're dealing pretty much in binary-notational absolutism, here. Prometheus

There was a vaguely battered look to the outside of the TARDIS herself, but she seemed basically whole and intact. The main door (which the Doctor could quite distinctly remember not closing, being far more interested in putting some distance between himself and his young companions and the assortment of monstrous creatures spilling out of it) was now firmly shut, with the sense that it would take rather more than simple cajolery for it ever to open again.

Take cover!' the Doctor shouted frantically. He looked wildly about himself, realised that there was nothing in the Chamber of Souls actually to take cover under or behind, and shouted again: 'Get out! Get out!' Fitz