The Doctor: All civilisation starts with hunting and foraging, but don't worry, you'll soon work your way up.
Light: I know you. I took you up as the last specimen of the extinct Neanderthal race from Earth. ... At least they knew when to stop evolving.
The Doctor: But you evolve too, Light.
Light: Nonsense.
The Doctor: Of course you do. You change, you adapt, all the time. Your attitude, your place, your mind... I mean, look at you now: you're no longer your original shape. And I don't think much of your catalogue- it's full of gaps.
Light: All organic life is recorded!
The Doctor: What about the gryphons, the basilisks? You missed the dragons, the bandersnatches... then there are the slithy toves and the crowned Saxe-Coburg.
Light: Where are these items?
The Doctor: I can't think how you missed them. You have to complete the catalogue before you destroy all life here.
Light: Control?
The Doctor: She's no use to you, she's evolved as well.
Light: No! All slipping away...
The Doctor: All is change, all is movement. Tell me, Light, haven't you just changed your location?
Light: Not yet.
The Doctor: What's the matter, Light? Changed your mind?
Light: You are endlessly agitating, unceasingly mischievous, will you never STOP?!
The Doctor: I suppose I could. It would make a change.
Light: Nimrod- I can rely on you! Assist me now...
Nimrod: I'm sorry, sir, but my allegiance is to this planet- my birthright.
Light: Everything is changing! All in flux! Nothing remains the same!
The Doctor: Even remains change. It's this planet- it can't help itself.
Light: I... will not change... I'll wake up soon. No... change... dead...
The Doctor: Subject for catalogue: file under "imagination, comma, lack of".
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