At one point in time I could enjoy silence. I found nothing but beauty in sunbeam dust. People repeating my words was just an irritant. I did not question ticking clocks and I could look away from angel statues without fear. I didn't get out of reach of mannequins, and I did not freak when I forgot what I was doing. Captivity did not used to have musical meaning, and not everything deserved to be given a chance. There was a time when I was indifferent to bow ties, and a time when I did not look up at the stars and listen, hoping to hear the sound of a beautiful blue box.
the TARDIS’ telepathic field (the one that translates all the languages for the Doctor and his companions) breaks down somehow and the Doctor only realizes this happened when Amy points it out for him, “What…did you just say? What language was that? Doctor?”
And he realizes he’s speaking in Gallifreyan
so then he has to consciously switch to English,
and he has an accent
and Matt Smith spends the whole episode sounding like a Russian lit professor