From The Heads of Cerberus, by Francis Stevens, published in All-Story Weekly:
(This story is really pretty good. It was originally published in 1919, and in the introduction to my copy of the book, Robert Weinberg sez that it was the first story to use the idea of the “alternate earth” to which Our Heroes travel.)
Context for the quote:
Our Heroes get accidentally sucked to an alternative dimension. In that dimension, one of them meets a girl who ends up getting accidentally sucked back into Our Heroes’ home dimension because she happens to be carrying the MacGuffin. Upon handing the MacGuffin back to her new boyfriend, she gets sucked back into her home dimension, which unfortunately Our Heroes had just blowed up real good. Oops.
Dammit! I came in here all excited about ‘Pulp Fiction’ -y’know, the one with Travolta?!?
Anyways, I’m going to post my favorite quote from that movie anways:
Vincent:I got a threshold, Jules. I got a threshold for the abuse I’ll take. And right now I’m a race car and you got me in the red. I’m just saying that it’s fuckin’ dangerous to have a racecar in the fuckin’ red. It could blow.
Jules: Oh, you’re gettin’ ready to blow?
Vincent: I could blow.
Jules: Well I’m a mushroom-cloud-layin’ motherfucker, motherfucker! Every time my fingers touch brain I’m “SUPERFLY T.N.T”, I’m the “GUNS OF THE NAVARONE”.
“We’ve got sixty-four thousand possible personality types,” Hagbard explained, “and I’ve only seen that reading once before. Guess who it was?”
“Not me,” Mavis said quickly, beginning to color.
“No, not you.” Hagbard laughed again. “It was Atlanta Hope.”
Mavis was startled. “That’s impossible. She’s frigid for one thing.”
“There are many kinds of frigidity,” Hagbard said. “It fits, believe me. She joined women’s liberation at the same age George joined Weatherman, and they both split after a few months. And you’d be surprised how similar their mothers were, or how the successful careers of their older brothers annoy them—”
“But George is a nice guy, underneath it all.”
Hagbard Celine knocked an ash off his long Italian cigar. “Everybody is a nice guy, underneath it all,” he said. “What we become when the world is through messing us over is something else.”
Jules: DOES HE LOOK LIKE A BITCH?
Brett: No!
Jules: Then why you try to fuck him like a bitch, Brett?
Brett: I didn’t.
Jules: Yes you did. Yes you did, Brett. You tried to fuck him. And Marcellus Wallace don’t like to be fucked by anybody, except Mrs. Wallace.
Ah, I like that. I like tulip. Tulip is much better than mongoloid.
The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.
“The [aliens] were odd, weird, grotesque. There was something horribly uncustomary and unwonted about them. They were completely unfamiliar. Their appearance was outlandish and extraordinary. here was something quite phenomenal about them. They were supernormal; they were unparalleled; they were unexampled. The shape of the aliens was singular in every sense. They were curious, odd, queer, peculiar and fantastic, and yet when every adjective had been used on them, when every preternatural epithet had been applied to their aberrant and freakish appearance, when everything that could be said about such eccentric, exceptional, anomalous creatures had been said, they still remained indescribable in any concrete terms.”