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June 5 - August 4, 2024
He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying it.
mindbogglingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can’t see it, it can’t see you
‘I thought,’ he said ‘that if the world was going to end we were meant to lie down or put a paper bag over our head or something.’ ‘If you like, yes,’ said Ford.
‘There’s no point in acting all surprised about it. All the planning charts and demolition orders have been on display in your local planning department in Alpha Centauri for fifty of your Earth years, so you’ve had plenty of time to lodge any formal complaint and it’s far too late to start making a fuss about it now.’
The Damogran Frond Crested Eagle had heard of the notion of survival of the species but wanted no truck with it.
They were no use as transport because their backs would snap instantly, but the Vogons sat on them anyway.
I’ve just had an unhappy love affair, so I don’t see why anybody else should have a good time.
It’s unpleasantly like being drunk.’ ‘What’s so unpleasant about being drunk?’ ‘You ask a glass of water.’
‘So this is it,’ said Arthur, ‘we are going to die.’ ‘Yes,’ said Ford, ‘except . . . no! Wait a minute!’ He suddenly lunged across the chamber at something behind Arthur’s line of vision. ‘What’s this switch?’ he cried. ‘What? Where?’ cried Arthur, twisting round. ‘No, I was only fooling,’ said Ford, ‘we are going to die after all.’
I really wish I’d listened to what my mother told me when I was young.’ ‘Why, what did she tell you?’ ‘I don’t know, I didn’t listen.’
‘Ford,’ he said, ‘you’re turning into a penguin. Stop it.’
‘Ford,’ he said, ‘there’s an infinite number of monkeys outside who want to talk to us about this script for Hamlet they’ve worked out.’
‘Oh, the Paranoid Android,’
‘That’s a pretty unpleasant way to behave, isn’t it?’ ‘Is it?’ asked the old man mildly. ‘I’m sorry, I’m a bit out of touch.’
‘Come,’ called the old man, ‘come now or you will be late.’ ‘Late?’ said Arthur. ‘What for?’ ‘What is your name, human?’ ‘Dent. Arthur Dent,’ said Arthur. ‘Late, as in the late Dentarthurdent,’ said the old man, sternly. ‘It’s a sort of threat you see.’
He gestured Arthur towards a chair which looked as if it had been made out of the ribcage of a stegosaurus. ‘It was made out of the ribcage of a stegosaurus,’ explained the old man
‘Ah, shit,’ he said, ‘you wake me up from my own perfectly good dream to show me somebody else’s.’
