A Quote by Steven Moffat
River Song: Right, I have questions. But number one is this: what in the name of sanity have you got on your head? The Doctor: It's a fez. I wear a fez now. Fezzes are cool.
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It's a fez. I wear a fez now. Fezes are cool.
He could wear hats. He could wear an assortment of hats of different shapes and styles. Boater hats, cowboy hats, bowler hats. The list went on. Pork-pie hats, bucket hats, trillbies and panamas. Top hats, straw hats, trapper hats. Wide brim narrow brim, stingy brim. He could wear a fez. Fezzes were cool. Hadn't someone once said that fezzes were cool? He was pretty aur ether had. And they were. They were cool.
One always, sooner or later, comes upon a city which is an image of one's inner cities. Fez is an image of my inner self. ... The layers of the city of Fez are like the layers and secrecies of the inner life. One needs a guide. ... There were in Fez, as in my life, streets which led nowhere, impasses which remained a mystery.
The Doctor: Doctor Song, you've got that face on again. River: What face? The Doctor: The "He's hot when he's clever" face. River: This is my normal face. The Doctor: Yes it is. River: Oh, shut up. The Doctor: Not a chance.
If Aphrodite chills at home in Cyprus for most of the year, then Fez must be the goddess’s playground
I grew up in Morocco. I was born a Muslim, and, every year, I celebrated Christmas in a big white house in the country, halfway between Meknes and Fez.
The very thing that drives you, can drive you insane Got a head full of thought crimes and a number with no name Got an eleventh hour Jesus and a mouth full of blame A casket lined with silver dollars and a number with no name.
. . . You seem upset, Charlie. Is something wrong? Charlie: No, no, I’m okay, I just had to take directions from a mute beaver in a fez to get here, it’s unsettling.
It costs you just as much to ask a doctor 50 questions as it does to ask him one question. So go see your doctor with questions written down... And if he doesn't want to answer your 50 questions, go find yourself another doctor!
I adore 'Broad City,' but the one Latino is queer for jokes. You see queerness of Latinos in this emasculated with an accent or fez on a set '70s show. It's always like, 'Ha, ha, funny emasculated immigrants.'
The first census in 1790 asked just six questions: the name of the head of the household, the number of free white males older than 16, the number of free white males younger than 16, the number of free white females, the number of other free persons, and the number of slaves.
If you're recording the song on your four-track in your kitchen, when you finished writing the song, you're recording, and it's cool, and honor that. And maybe that's the version that should be released. And if you're recording the song again, it shouldn't be because there's a version you love that you're chasing. It should be because "You know what? I made a recording, but I don't love it emotionally." So, okay, then record again. And be in it and take advantage of the buzz and energy of "I'm getting to record right now!" It's such a beautiful and cool privilege.
I woke up one morning with this song in my head, and the opening line of the song is, 'My name was Richard Nixon, only now I'm a girl.'
I woke up one morning with this song in my head, and the opening line of the song: My name was Richard Nixon, only now I'm a girl.
When you've got an extra gear in your head where that's all you do, you've constantly got a little radar up. ... And when something hits that strikes that beeper, hits that radar, it's like my song skills kick right in and go, 'Oh, OK, there's a song in that.' And then I start trying to figure it out.
Rose: My mum's here. The Doctor: Oh, that's just what I need! Don't you dare make this place domestic! Mickey Smith: You ruined my life, Doctor. [the Doctor turns and looks at him, irritated] They thought she was dead, I was a murder suspect because of you! The Doctor: [looks at Rose] See what I mean? Domestic! Mickey: I bet you don't even remember my name! The Doctor: Ricky. Mickey: It's Mickey! The Doctor: No, it's Ricky. Mickey: I think I know my own name! The Doctor: You think you know your own name? How stupid are you?
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