It’s the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs.
All he ever remembered of his first meal in the space-ship was the tyranny of heat and light.
He couldn’t believe that there had been time enough for any group to invent a heat-ray, if such a thing could exist.
I can invent a new color, save the Dodo, join the Beatles.
It was octarine, the colour of magic. It was alive and glowing and vibrant and it was the undisputed pigment of the imagination, because wherever it appeared it was a sign that mere matter was a servant of the powers of the magical mind. It was enchantment itself.
But Rincewind always thought it looked a sort of greenish-purple.
All divination takes is a good imagination and a glib tongue.
I couldn’t help it. It just popped in there. I… I… I tried to think… No! It CAN’T be! It CAN’T be! It’s the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man!
No! I don’t like it! It don’t make no sense at all! No, no, no, no, no! It don’t make no sense!
I tell you, I must cranch. I have to cranch. It’s my worry, isn’t it?
Oh it was gorgeousness and gorgeosity made flesh. The trombones crunched redgold under my bed, and behind my gulliver the trumpets three-wise silverflamed, and there by the door the timps rolling through my guts and out again crunched like candy thunder. Oh, it was wonder of wonders. And then, a bird of like rarest spun heavenmetal, or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now, came the violin solo above all the other strings, and those strings were like a cage of silk round my bed. Then flute and oboe bored, like worms of like platinum, into the thick thick toffee gold and silver. I was in such bliss, my brothers
We’ve even got gold bullets for you know what.
To hide from a sensor scan, it would have to be able to change its molecular structure, like gold changing itself to lead or wood changing itself to ivory.
John Connor: So this other guy: he’s a Terminator like you, right?
The Terminator: Not like me. A T-1000, advanced prototype.
John Connor: You mean more advanced than you are?
The Terminator: Yes. A mimetic polyalloy.
John Connor: What the hell does that mean?
The Terminator: Liquid metal.
And didn’t we have trouble with the prototype.
Well, that explains it then. The A2’s always were a bit twitchy.
Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!
Go through every locked door, and run towards any form of danger that presents itself.
On this eve before she is torn from all she knows, kidnapped, hurled into deep space against her will, what thoughts fill the mind of the young space captive?
Another thing that got forgotten was the fact that, against all probability, a sperm whale had suddenly 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 poor innocent creature had very little time to come to terms with its identity as a whale before it then had to come to terms with not being a whale any more. This is a complete record of its thoughts from the moment it began its life till the moment it ended it:
“Ah…! What’s happening?” it thought. “Er, excuse me, who am I? Hello? Why am I here? What’s my purpose in life? What do I mean by who am I? Calm down, get a grip now…oh! This is an interesting sensation, what is it? It’s a sort of…yawning, tingling sensation in my… my… well I suppose I’d better start finding names for things if I want to make any headway in what for the sake of what I shall call an argument I shall call the world, so let’s call it my stomach. Good. Ooooh, it’s getting quite strong. And hey, what’s about this whistling roaring sound going past what I’m suddenly going to call my head? Perhaps I can call that… wind! Is that a good name? It’ll do… perhaps I can find a better name for it later when I’ve found out what it’s for. It must be something very important because there certainly seems to be a hell of a lot of it. Hey! What’s this thing? This… let’s call it a tail – yeah, tail. Hey! I can can really thrash it about pretty good can’t I? Wow! Wow! That feels great! Doesn’t seem to achieve very much but I’ll probably find out what it’s for later on. Now – have I built up any coherent picture of things yet? No. Never mind, hey, this is really exciting, so much to find out about, so much to look forward to, I’m quite dizzy with anticipation… Or is it the wind? There really is a lot of that now isn’t it? And wow! Hey! What’s this thing suddenly coming towards me very fast? Very very fast. So big and flat and round, it needs a big wide sounding name like… ow… ound… round… ground! That’s it! That’s a good name – ground! I wonder if it will be friends with me?”
And the rest, after a sudden wet thud, was silence.
Curiously enough, 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.
There are some corners of the universe that have bred the most terrible things. Things that act against everything we believe in. They must be fought.