It’s bigger on the inside than on the outside!
I like the bit when someone says “It’s bigger on the inside!” I always look forward to that.
Clouds out of control decoct anticipation. What use can any of us have for two moons? The miracle of order has run out and I am left in an unmiraculous city where anything may happen.
You are not in Kansas anymore. You are on Pandora, ladies and gentlemen. Respect that fact every second of every day. If there is a Hell, you might wanna go there for some R & R after a tour on Pandora. Out there beyond that fence every living thing that crawls, flies, or squats in the mud wants to kill you and eat your eyes for jujubes. We have an indigenous population of humanoids called the Na’vi. They’re fond of arrows dipped in a neurotoxin that will stop your heart in one minute - and they have bones reinforced with naturally occurring carbon fiber. They are very hard to kill. As head of security, it is my job to keep you alive. I will not succeed. Not with all of you. If you wish to survive, you need to cultivate a strong, mental aptitude. You got to obey the rules: Pandora rules.
You’ve got a foolie, but I can’t play. I don’t know the rules.
“Do not be foolish,” I said, “Mathematical equations are not solid- they are just scribbles someone writes down. And whoever wrote your equations must have made a mistake, because we are all just fine.”
Tell him about the Twinkie.
On the way, you got into an accident. Shall I tell what you did, and what happened to you because of it?
We can rebuild him. We can make him better.
Where are you gonna run? Where are you gonna hide? Listen to me! Bartertown will live! Find the little man, bring him back to me! We will rebuild! For those who took him…no mercy.
Look for a little man with a twisty mind sitting on top of a big pile of trouble.
Observe the classical magistrate’s mind at work, Delilah. The judge does not understand me, ergo I am mad. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dr. Miguelito Loveless. I plead guilty to being dictatorial, vain, short-tempered, occasionally unreasonable, always… always a helpless admirer of all that is rare and fine in nature and art. But mad… no sir that I will not permit.
We must live within range of the planet’s only known potassium source, inside a maze of twisty little Destiny ecologies, all different.
We all change, when you think about it, we’re all different people; all through our lives, and that’s okay, that’s good you’ve gotta keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be.
I call them the Strangers. They abducted us and brought us here. This city, everyone in it… is their experiment. They mix and match our memories as they see fit, trying to divine what makes us unique. One day, a man might be an inspector. The next, someone entirely different. When they want to study a murderer, for instance, they simply imprint one of their citizens with a new personality. Arrange a family for him, friends, an entire history… even a lost wallet. Then they observe the results. Will a man, given the history of a killer, continue in that vein? Or are we, in fact, more than the sum of our memories?
Hey, aliens, down here. We are ready for your wisdom. And you only got twenty minutes before Sanford and Son is on.
I’ve met godlike beings. As far as I can tell, they do nothing with their lives… except occasionally manipulate mine.
I object to you. I object to intellect without discipline. I object to power without constructive purpose.
In thirty years of soldiering, I have never encountered such destructive power as I have seen displayed here and now by the British school boy.
There are no dangerous weapons. There are only dangerous men.