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Human beings are great adaptors, and by lunchtime life in the environs of Arthur’s house had settled into a steady routine.
He said, ‘Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.’
Only six people in the Galaxy knew that the job of the Galactic President was not to wield power but to attract attention away from it.
One of the things Ford Prefect had always found hardest to understand about humans was their habit of continually stating and repeating the very very obvious,
He slumped against a bulkhead and started to count to ten. He was desperately worried that one day sentient life forms would forget how to do this. Only by counting could humans demonstrate their independence of computers.
there comes a point I’m afraid where you begin to suspect that if there’s any real truth, it’s that the entire multi-dimensional infinity of the Universe is almost certainly being run by a bunch of maniacs.
