[Throughout all of this Davros' hand has been slowly moving up and down and wiggling as instructed. It takes all of his restraint not to point directly at Amy and blast her into the nearest wall, even though he knows his weaponry is being restricted... She had hit upon a sore memory.]
It is only through my own... Through... Momentary miscalculations...
[He manages to spit the word out through gritted teeth.]
That this is even an issue. The Daleks are pure. They are designed to remain pure, and nothing shall stop them from doing so. Once they have completed their task there will be only pure Dalek life forms left, and peace eternal shall reign. One way or another. And I shall live on through my creations for eternity. I... Must resign myself to that fate. I must simply continue to aid them, as a slave if necessary, until I can see my life's work complete. Then, and only then, shall I die.
[An unusually sad expression passes momentarily over Davros' face.]
Some indignities can be faced for the greater good. Whether they accept it or not, I am Davros, lord and creator of the Dalek race.