"That's my Donna! She was always bossing us 'round, even when she was tiny. 'The little General,' we used to call her." We all have war within our hearts. While he was giving you a key to the TARDIS, Martha's was given form, on Earth: a clone, a child of Sontar. The Doctor asked her if she'd called her family, during the emergency, and she asked him why she would. "The gas? Tell them to stay inside." And Donna, he said, "She's gone home. She's not like you, she's not a soldier." Not a daughter of the war. Martha's feelings were hurt, but it was true. And Martha nursed her soldier-self to sleep, into death, and put on the Doctor's coat, and became another daughter. Returned to being a doctor. And the last words clone-Martha spoke were love: "All that life."
He doesn't turn people into things. That's a misconception. He doesn't change you. He doesn't make you stronger, or better, or smarter, or faster. He doesn't make you kinder, or make you love yourself more, or believe in yourself more. He doesn't give you anything you don't already have. He can inspire, and he can love, but nobody on this earth can change you. Nobody ever made you greater, and nobody ever made you crawl. Martha knew that: knew she was a soldier because she was a soldier. But it hurt to see him say it, because he'd been the one to inspire her. She was saving the world. I think the more he fought it, the more he complained about the guns and the salutes and the armies and the battles, the prouder she should be.
Guy's clinging to the roof of a house, and the flood is rising. He prays, he lifts his voice up to God in song. And a helicopter comes by, and the guy says, "No, it's cool. God's got me covered." And the water's rising, and pretty soon the guys with the boats are floating by, at eye level. He's got himself curled around the chimney, praying his ass off. And one of the boats stops, grabs a branch from the live oak in what used to be his backyard, and tells him to hustle. But at this point, it would be kind of rude, right, to get in the boat? Wouldn't that be like standing God up? So they roll their eyes, and float away. He gets smaller and smaller, in the distance, on the top of his little house, until they can't see him at all. And he keeps waiting. Hoping. And this big strapping superhero with delts to spare and an ass Midshipman Frame would be proud of arrives, touches down ever so lightly under a yellow sun. And the guy, he's tempted. Because this is it, Earl. This is his last chance. But God's got him covered.