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The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Marvin: I think you ought to know I'm feeling very depressed. Trillian: Well, we have something that may take your mind off it. Marvin: It won't work, I have an exceptionally large mind. Trillian: Yeah, we know. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Trillian: Let's go somewhere. Arthur: Where did you have in mind? Trillian: Madagascar. Arthur: That new club on Dean Street? Trillian: No, it's a country. Off the coast of Africa. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Arthur: All my life I've had this strange feeling that there's something big and sinister going on in the world. Slartibartfast: No, that's perfectly normal paranoia. Everyone in the universe gets that. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ford: Wash your filthy hands!
Ford: Don't panic... don't panic...
Arthur: So this is it. We're gonna die.
Ford: Yeah. We're gonna die.
Ford: No... no! What's this?
Arthur: What's that?
Ford: What's this...? What's this...?
Ford: This... is... nothing. Yeah, we're gonna die.
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Marvin: Life? Don't talk to me about life!
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Vogon: He's got a TOWEL!
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Dolphins: So long, and thanks for all the fish / So sad that it should come to this / We tried to warn you all, but, oh, dear / You may not share out intellect / Which might explain your disrespect / For all the natural wonders that grow around you / So long, so long, and thanks for all the fish! The world's about to be destroyed / There's no point getting all annoyed / Lie back and let the planet dissolve around you / Despite those nets of tuna fleets / We thought that most of you were sweet / Especially tiny tots and your pregnant women / So long, so long, so long, so long, so long! So long, so long, so long, so long, so long! So long, so long, and thanks for all the fish!/ If I had just one last wish / I would like a tasty fish!/If we could just change one thing / We would all have learnt to sing!/Come one and all / Man and mammal / Side by side / In life's great gene pool!/ So long, so long, so long, so long, so long / So long, so long, so long, so long / So long, so long and thanks for all the fish!
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Slartibartfast: I must warn you, we're going to pass through, well, a sort of gateway thing.
Arthur Dent: What?
Slartibartfast: It may disturb you. It scares the willies out of me.
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Ghostly Image: It is most gratifying that your enthusiasm for our planet continues unabated. As a token of our appreciation, we hope you will enjoy the two thermonuclear missiles we've just sent to converge with your craft. To ensure ongoing quality of service, your death may be monitored for training purposes. Thank you.
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Arthur Dent: Just wait a sodding minute! You want a question that goes with the answer for 42? Well, how about what's six times seven? Or how many Vogons does it take to change a lightbulb? Here's one! How many roads must a man walk down?
Lunkwill: Hey, that's not bad!
Arthur Dent: Fine. Fine, take it. Because my head is filled with questions and I can assure you no answer to any one of them has ever brought me one iota of happiness. Except for one. The one. The only question I've ever wanted an answer to - is she the one? The answer bloody well isn't forty-two, it's yes. Undoubtedly, unequivocally, unabashadly yes. And for one week, one week in my sad little blip of an existence, it made me happy.
Trillian: That's a good answer...
Lunkwill: Rubbish, we don't want to be happy, we want to be famous!
Fook: Yeah! What is all this "is she the one" tripe?
Lunkwill: Take his brain!
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Trillian: Well, this is weird.
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The Book: It is important to note that suddenly, and against all probability, a Sperm Whale had been called into existence, several miles above the surface of an alien planet and since this is not a naturally tenable position for a whale, this innocent creature had very little time to come to terms with its identity. This is what it thought, as it fell:
The Whale: Ahhh! Woooh! What's happening? Who am I? Why am I here? What's my purpose in life? What do I mean by who am I? Okay okay, calm down calm down get a grip now. Ooh, this is an interesting sensation. What is it? Its a sort of tingling in my... well I suppose I better start finding names for things. Lets call it a... tail! Yeah! Tail! And hey, what's this roaring sound, whooshing past what I'm suddenly gonna call my head? Wind! Is that a good name? It'll do. Yeah, this is really exciting. I'm dizzy with anticipation! Or is it the wind? There's an awful lot of that now isn't it? And what's this thing coming toward me very fast? So big and flat and round, it needs a big wide sounding name like 'Ow', 'Ownge', 'Round', 'Ground'! That's it! Ground! Ha! I wonder if it'll be friends with me? Hello Ground!
The Book: Curiously the only thing that went through the mind of the bowl of petunias, as it fell, was, 'Oh no, not again.' Many people have speculated that if we knew exactly *why* the bowl of petunias had thought that we would know a lot more about the nature of the universe than we do now.
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Trillian: I should have said it resembles tea.
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Zaphod: Why'd you pick up hitchhikers?
Trillian: I didn't. The ship did.
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Zaphod: She digs me.
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Zaphod: That doesn't sound good.
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Trillian: You idiot! You signed the order to destroy Earth!
Zaphod: I did?
Arthur: He did?
Trillian: Love and kisses Zaphod? You didn't even read it, did you?
Zaphod: Well, I'm president, I don't have a lot of time for reading.
Trillian: My whole planet destroyed because you thought someone wanted your autograph!
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Zaphod: Some parts of my character weren't what you'd call presidential.
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Ford, Zaphod: Belgium.
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Ford: That's awkward.
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Arthur: Let's go somewhere.
Trillian: Definitely. Where'd you have in mind?
Ford: I know this great restaurant at the end of the universe.
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Arthur Dent: I'm sorry, did you just say you needed my brain?
Fook: Yes, to complete the program.
Arthur Dent: Well, you can't have it, I'm using it!
Fook: Hardly.
Arthur Dent: Cheeky mouse...
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Mr. Prosser: Do you know how much damage this bulldozer would sustain if I just let it roll over you?
Arthur: How much?
Mr. Prosser: None at all.
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Ford: You're looking for the Ultimate Question.
Zaphod: Yep.
Ford: You.
Zaphod: Me.
Ford: Why?
Zaphod: No, I tried that: Why? 42. Doesn't work.
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Title card: For Douglas.
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Zaphod: Who are we waiting for again?
Zaphod: No, I'm serious.
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Slartibartfast: Best laid plans of mice.
Arthur: And men.
Slartibartfast: What?
Arthur: Best laid plans of mice and men.
Slartibartfast: Oh. No, I don't think men had much to do with it.
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Arthur:
Arthur: All right! Where is she!
Vogon Secretary: Who? The Director of Robot Arm Repair?
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Trillian: Who are you?
Arthur: Er, Dent, Arthur Dent.
Trillian: No, I mean *who* are you?
Arthur: Oh, the costume. Er, Livingston I presume. Yeah. Not as good as Darwin I know but the best I could manage at short notice.
Trillian: You're the first person who's gotten that right. Everyone keeps calling me Santa.
Arthur: Really?
Trillian: Yeah, and I thought the beagle made it a dead giveaway.
Arthur: Well, I suppose most of the people who come to these parties are drunken idiots.
Trillian: What?
Arthur: I said all these people are idiots!
Arthur: Oh god...
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Humma Kavula, Congregation: Oh mighty Arkleseizure, thou gazed from high above. And sneezed from out thy nostrils, a gift of bounteous love. The universe around us emerged from thy nose. Now we await with eager expectation, thy handkerchief, to bring us back to thee.
Zaphod: Hello Humma.
Humma Kavula: Let us pray. Oh mighty one, we raise our noses to you blocked and unblown, send the handkerchief O blessed one that we may be wiped clean.
Congregation: Atchoo!
Humma Kavula: Bless you.
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Slartibartfast: You must come with me.
Arthur Dent: Who are you?
Slartibartfast: What? No. My name's not important. You must come with me, or you'll be late.
Arthur Dent: Late for what?
Slartibartfast: Well, um, what's your name Earthman?
Arthur Dent: Dent. Arthur Dent.
Slartibartfast: Well, late as in *the late* Dentarthurdent. It's a sort of threat. You see?
Arthur Dent: No.
Slartibartfast: Your friends are safe, you can trust me.
Arthur Dent: Trust a man who won't even tell me his name?
Slartibartfast: Well, um, my name is, um, it's
Slartibartfast: Slartibartfast.
Arthur Dent: What?
Slartibartfast: I *said* it wasn't important.
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The Book: It is an important and popular fact that things are not always what they seem. For instance, on the planet Earth, Man had always assumed that he was the most intelligent species occupying the planet, instead of the *third* most intelligent. The second most intelligent were of course dolphins who had long known of the impending destruction of earth. They had on many occasions tried to alert mankind but their warnings were mistakenly interpreted as amusing attempts to punch footballs or whistle for titbits. The last ever dolphin message was misinterpreted as a suprisingly sophisticated attempt at doing a double backflip through a hoop while whistling the star-spangled banner but in fact the message was this: So long and thanks for all the fish.
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Trillian: I want to go somewhere I've never been, and I'd like to go with you.
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Humma Kavula: The election is ancient history, Zaphod. If memory serves, you won, proving that good looks and charm win over brilliance and the ability to govern. And for the record? You *are* stupid.
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Trillian: It won't affect me, I'm already a woman.
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Fook: Oh, bollocks!
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Arthur: Ford?
Ford: Yeah?
Arthur: I think I'm a sofa...
Ford: I know how you feel...
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Marvin: You can blame the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation for making androids with GPP...
Arthur: Um... what's GPP?
Marvin: Genuine People Personalities. I'm a personality prototype. You can tell, can't you...?
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Arthur Dent: It's a big-biggy Ford, a big-biggy! I mean what if it rips us all into tiny little atomic partical things?
Zaphod: This is the right one! I have a hunch!
Ford: His hunches are good! Arthur! I say we go!
Arthur Dent: Go with a hunch of a man who's brain is fueled by lemons?
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Jeltz: Apathetic bloody planet. I've no sympathy at all.
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Zaphod: If there's anything around here more important than my ego, I want it caught and shot now!
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The Book: According to the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, the best drink in the known universe is the Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster. It has the effect of having your brains smashed out with a slice of lemon... wrapped around a large gold brick.
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Slartibartfast: That's Frank.
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Zaphod: Let's trip the Light Fantastic, baby, just you and me.
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Trillian: I have a plan.
Arthur: Does it involve pushing him out there and then running the other way?
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The Book: The Encyclopedia Galactica, in its chapter on Love states that it is far too complicated to define. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has this to say on the subject of love: Avoid, if at all possible. Unfortunately, Arthur Dent has never read the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.
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The Book: Vogon poetry is the third worst in the Universe. The second worst is that of the Azgoths of Kria. During a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem "Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in My Armpit One Midsummer Morning" four of his audience members died of internal hemorrhaging, and the President of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his own legs off. The very worst poetry in the universe was written by Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings of Sussex. Thankfully it was destroyed when the earth was.
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Arthur: Normality? We can talk about normality until the cows come home.
Ford: What is normal?
Trillian: What is home?
Zaphod: What're cows?
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Marvin: Incredible... it's even worse than I thought it would be.
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Zaphod: Zarquon! What was that? Geez...
Marvin: I'd make a suggestion, but you wouldn't listen.
Marvin: No one ever does.
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Ford: I checked The Guide for the best way to rescue a prisoner from Vogsphere, it said "don't".
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The Book: "The Babel fish," said The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy quietly, "is small, yellow and leech-like, and probably the oddest thing in the Universe. It feeds on brainwave energy not from its carrier but from those around it. It absorbs all unconscious mental frequencies from this brainwave energy to nourish itself with. It then excretes into the mind of its carrier a telepathic matrix formed by combining the conscious thought frequencies with nerve signals picked up from the speech centres of the brain which has supplied them. The practical upshot of all this is that if you stick a Babel fish in your ear you can instantly understand anything said to you in any form of language. The speech patterns you actually hear decode the brainwave matrix which has been fed into your mind by your Babel fish. "Now it is such a bizarrely improbable coincidence that anything so mindboggingly useful could have evolved purely by chance that some thinkers have chosen to see it as the final and clinching proof of the non-existence of God. "The argument goes something like this: 'I refuse to prove that I exist,' says God, 'for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing.' "'But,' says Man, 'The Babel fish is a dead giveaway, isn't it? It could not have evolved by chance. It proves you exist, and so therefore, by your own arguments, you don't. QED.' "'Oh dear,' says God, 'I hadn't thought of that,' and promptly vanished in a puff of logic. "'Oh, that was easy,' says Man, and for an encore goes on to prove that black is white and gets himself killed on the next zebra crossing. "Most leading theologians claim that this argument is a load of dingo's kidneys, but that didn't stop Oolon Colluphid making a small fortune when he used it as the central theme of his best- selling book Well That About Wraps It Up For God. "Meanwhile, the poor Babel fish, by effectively removing all barriers to communication between different races and cultures, has caused more and bloodier wars than anything else in the history of creation."
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Marvin: Don't see what the big deal is... Vogons are some of the worst shots in the galaxy...
Marvin: Now I've got a headache!
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Questular Rontok: Mr President! Oh, thank god. I tried to prevent all this from happening, but forces beyond my control made it impossible for me to stop them. And even stronger forces are making it impossible for me to stop doing this right now!
Zaphod: Zarquon, woman! Are you insane? You're my vice-president! In the name of liberty, and freedom, and people, and... stuff... let's do that again!
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Eddie the Computer: Guys, I am just pleased as punch to inform you that there are two thermo-nuclear missiles headed this way... if you don't mind, I'm gonna go ahead and take evasive action
Arthur Dent: COMPUTER DO SOMETHING!
Eddie the Computer: Sure thing fella! Switching over to manual control... good luck!
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Marvin: Freeze? I'm a robot. I'm not a refrigerator.
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Marvin: I've been talking to the main computer.
Arthur: And?
Marvin: It hates me.
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Marvin: I've been talking to the ship's computer.
Arthur: And?
Marvin: It hates me.
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Zaphod: Far out!
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Zaphod: HUMMA KAVULA!
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Arthur: Humma Kavula is a person? I thought he was swearing!
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News Reader: Humma Kavula is best known for his slanderous "Don't vote for stupid" campaign and claimed that most people thought they were voting for the worst dressed sentient being in the universe contest.
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The Book: A man who no more knows his destiny than a tea leaf knows the history of the East India company.
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Ford: You don't remember. Arthur, your whole planet has been destroyed.
Arthur: Couldn't you have done something?
Ford: I saved your life.
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Arthur: A cup of tea would restore my normality.
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Arthur: I have to say, without the beard you look at least 80 years younger.
Trillian: Well, maybe I'm de-evolving?
Arthur: Ha ha!
Trillian: Ha ha!
Arthur: Well, I should inform you that I don't date single-celled organisms.
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The Book: This man is a 5'8" ape descendant and someone is trying to drive a bypass through his house.
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Zaphod: I can't do this without my third arm!
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Arthur: See, normally I hate those sorts of parties. I'd much rather stay at home, I don't know, ironing me hankies.
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The Book: Space, says the introduction to the guide, is big. Really big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mind bogglingly big it is. And so on.
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Arthur: Humma Kavula is person? I thought he was swearing!
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Arthur: I think I'm gonna be sick!
Zaphod: Hey, do it in the trash can, Earth man, this ship is brand new.
Arthur:
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Marvin: Not that anyone cares what I think, but the restaurant is at the *other* end of the Universe.
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Trillian: Marvin... you saved our lives!
Marvin: I know. Wretched, isn't it?
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Arthur: So this is it. We're going to die
Ford: Yes. Would you like a hug?
Arthur: No.
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Arthur: Ok. Leave this to me. I'm British. I know how to queue.
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Vogon: Oh no, he's closed the gate from the inside, we'll have to go round.
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Marvin: I've calculated your chance of survival, but I don't think you'll like it.
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Barman: Did you say the world is coming to an end? Shouldn't we all lie on the floor or put paper bags over our heads?
Ford: If you like.
Barman: Will it help?
Ford: Not at all.
Barman: Last orders, please!
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Zaphod: I like those jammies.
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Lunkwill: Do you...
Deep Thought: Have an answer for you? Yes. But you're not going to like it.
Fook: Please tell us. We must know!
Deep Thought: Okay. The answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything is...
Deep Thought: 42.
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Arthur: Go with the hunch of a man whose brain is fuelled by lemons?
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Marvin: I don't know what you're all worried about. Vogons are the worst marksmen in the galaxy.
Marvin: Now I've got a headache.
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The Book: Vogons. They are one of the most unpleasant races in the galaxy. Not actually evil, but bad-tempered, bureaucratic, officious, and callous. They wouldn't even lift a finger to save their own grandmothers from the ravenous Bug-Blatter Beast of Traal without orders signed in triplicate, sent in, sent back, lost, found, queried, subjected to public inquiry, lost again, and finally buried in soft peat for three months and recycled as firelighter. On no account should you allow a Vogon to read poetry to you.
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Questular Rontok: She's lying. She's skinny, and she's pretty, and she's lying!
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Ford: Time is an illusion. Lunchtime, doubly so.
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Ghostly Image: We are pleased to see that your enthusiasm for our planet continues unabated, and would like you to know that the two thermonuclear missiles currently converging upon your vessel are merely a courtesy we extend to all prospective customers.
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Zaphod: I'm sensing a lot of hostility from you, Alex.
Arthur: Arthur!
Zaphod: Have you ever tried yoga?
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Marvin: This will all end in tears.
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Marvin: I told you this would all end in tears.
Arthur: Did you? Did you?
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Arthur: It must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays.
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Zaphod: Hey slim, are you wearing my underwear? 'Cause I'm wearing yours, and they're not doing the trick.
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Fook: We don't want to be happy, we want to be famous.
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Marvin: Here I am, brain the size of a planet, and they ask me to take you to the bridge. Call that job satisfaction, 'cause I don't.
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Vogon: Resistance is useless!
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Ford: If you want to survive out here, you've got to know where your towel is.
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Zaphod: Hey! Is this guy boring you? Why don't you come talk to me instead? I'm from a different planet. Seriously!
Zaphod: You want to see my spaceship?
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The Book: In the beginning the universe was created. This made a lot of people angry and has widely been considered as a bad move.
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Ford: We must talk.
Arthur Dent: Not now, Ford. They're gonna demolish my home.
Ford: Whoah! Whoah! Whoah! You know already?
Ford: Oh, *they*! When you say "they" you mean *they*!
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Ford: Workers of the earth! I bring... good tidings of peanuts! And beer!
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Ford: Didn't you think it was strange I was trying to shake hands with a car?
Arthur: I assumed you were drunk.
Ford: I thought cars were the dominant lifeform. I was trying to introduce myself.
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Trillian: I have the president and I will kill him, I swear I will.
Jeltz: Could that actually kill him?
Questular Rontok: I don't think so. It's an aerosol can.
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Ford: He's my semi half brother.
Zaphod: He shares three of the same mothers as me.
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Trillian: See this? This detects what you're craving and makes it for you. And this? This toasts bread while you're slicing it. We're on a space ship Arthur. In space.
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The Book: The Point of View gun conveniently does precisely what its name suggests. That is if you point it at someone and pull the trigger, they instantly see things from your point of view. It was designed by Deep Thought, but commissioned by a consortium of intergalactic angry housewives, who after countless arguments with their husbands were sick to the teeth of ending those arguments with the phrase "You just don't get it, do you?"
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Zaphod: Why so edgy, baby doll? Relax.
Trillian: Why so edgy? You wanna know why I'm edgy?
Zaphod: Of course you're edgy. Your planet's been blown up and you've been tooling round the galaxy with the guy who signed the order. You actually wanted to know the question because you always wondered if there was more to life and now you're crushed because you find out there really isn't.
Zaphod: Hey, fantastic. Psychedelic.
Zaphod: You have no home and no family and now you're stuck with me, another in a long line of men who doesn't really get you.
Zaphod: That's not true.
Zaphod: And you're worried that you might have blown it with the one guy who really does.
Zaphod: Oh, baby doll. Give me that thing.
Trillian: It won't affect me. I'm already a woman.
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Trillian: So much for the laws of physics.
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Humma Kavula: Even an improbability drive needs coordinates which I happen to have.
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Humma Kavula: What does Zaphod Beeblebrox treasure most?
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Ford: What's with the whole two-head thing?
Zaphod: Oh, yeah, apparently you can't be president with a whole brain.
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Arthur: So you're not from Guildford. Which would explain the accent.
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The Book: It is of course well known that careless talk costs lives, but the full scale of the problem is not always appreciated. For instance, at the very moment that Arthur Dent said "I wouldn't want to go anywhere without my wonderful towel," a freak wormhole opened up in the fabric of the space-time continuum and carried his words far far back in time across almost infinite reaches of space to a distant Galaxy where strange and warlike beings were poised on the brink of frightful interstellar battle. The two opposing leaders, resplendent in their black jewelled battle shorts, were meeting for the last time, when, a dreadful silence fell, and, at that very moment, the words, "I wouldn't want to go anywhere without my wonderful towel" drifted across the conference table. Unfortunately, in their native tongue, this was the most appalling insult imaginable, so the two opposing battle fleets decided to settle their few remaining differences in order to launch a joint attack on our galaxy, now positively identified as the source of the offending remark. For thousands of years the mighty starships tore across the empty wastes of space and finally dived screaming on to the planet Earth - where, due to a terrible miscalculation of scale, the entire battle fleet was accidentally swallowed by a small dog. Those who study the complex interplay of cause and effect in the history of the Universe say that this sort of thing is going on all the time.
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Gag Halfrunt: Zaphod's just zis guy, ya know?
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Slartibartfast: I'd much rather be happy than right any day.
Arthur: And are you?
Slartibartfast: Ahh... No.
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Slartibartfast: Perhaps I'm old and tired, but I think that the chances of finding out what's actually going on are so absurdly remote that the only thing to do is to say, "Hang the sense of it," and keep yourself busy. I'd much rather be happy than right any day.
Arthur Dent: And are you?
Slartibartfast: Ah, no.
Slartibartfast: Well, that's where it all falls down, of course.
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Zaphod: This is it. I have a hunch.
Ford: His hunches are good.
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Ford: You're sweating.
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Lunkwill: Drink up.
Arthur: Thank you.
Fook: Now, to business.
Ford, Zaphod: To business!
Lunkwill, Fook: Eat!
Zaphod: Sorry.
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Zaphod: You Zarkin' Frood!
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Zaphod: We just hit that button and whoo! Magrathea. I think, I mean we've hit it twice and we're still not there.
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Trillian: We don't know why we're here. We were trying to get to Magrathea and our ship brought us here.
Humma Kavula: How very... improbable.
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Zaphod: Oh Deep Thought! We have travelled long... and far. Have you calculated the ultimate question?
Deep Thought: No. I've been watching the TV.
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Zaphod: Circus! Circus!
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Zaphod: He's a guest on my ship! He's a guest on my shiiiip!
Ford: I thought you said you stole it.
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Trillian: Buttons aren't toys.
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Ford: Is that it?
Zaphod: No, there's more. They go back.
Arthur: What, seven and a half million years later?
Zaphod: Yeah, they do.
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Zaphod: Hey. Sorry to hear about your planet. What was it called again?
Arthur: Earth.
Zaphod: Yeah, Earth. I liked Earth. I got these boots on Earth. Anyway, don't tell the girl, OK? Cause if you do, I'll pull your spleen out through your throat.
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Trillian: How badly does it hurt?
Arthur: It doesn't feel great.
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Arthur: She was amazing though, Ford. Beautiful, witty, mad as a balloon.
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Arthur Dent: Here I was thinking I was the only one who considered your boyfriend a narcissistic moron, when apparently the whole galaxy does.
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The Book: What to do if you find yourself stuck with no hope of rescue: Consider yourself lucky that life has been good to you so far. Alternatively, if life hasn't been good to you so far, which given your present circumstances seems more likely, consider yourself lucky that it won't be troubling you much longer.
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Ford: Okay, don't think. Nobody think. No ideas. No theories. No nothing.
Ford, Arthur, Zaphod: Ow!
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Ford: They don't think, they don't imagine, most of them can't even spell, they just run things. And if we don't hitch a ride soon, you won't need the guide to tell you just how unpleasant they can be. They already destroyed a planet today, and that always makes them a little... eeee!
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Arthur: I think that door just sighed.
Marvin: Ghastly, isn't it? All the doors on this spaceship have been programmed to have a cheery and sunny disposition.
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Zaphod: In the name of people, and freedom, and democracy, and stuff like that, I hereby kidnap myself, and I'm taking this ship with me. Whoo!
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Zaphod: He did say the gray building, right?
Ford: All the buildings are gray.
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Zaphod: WOW! Is this gonna happen every time we hit that button?
Trillian: Very probably, yes.
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Marvin: I have a million ideas, but, they all point to certain death.
Arthur: Thanks very much, Marv!
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