The whole planet Houston?
Let’s not shoot the crazy end-of-the-world machine just yet.
How can he possibly resist the maddening urge to erradicate history at the mere push of a single button? The beautiful, shiny button? The jolly, candy-like button? Will he hold out, folks? Can he hold out?
“If you push the button,” Mr. Steward told him, “somewhere in the world someone you don’t
know will die. In return for which you will receive a payment of $50,000.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s just your first lovers’ spat. You accused of him of being an inhuman fiend, and he got a little miffed. No big deal.”
… those two belong to a common sect, or something—they knew and recognized each other. They dislike each other and work at cross-purposes but betrayal, corruption, any straying from whatever common path they have chosen, these are inconceivable.
Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?
Why? Because I’ve decided a piece of country fried crap like you doesn’t deserve to live, not with so many good men dying.
This is not your fight anymore, Hiro. Save yourself, while you still can.
And no matter what you think as a scientist or a doctor, there is a way, and you will find it, to save yourself.
I was continuing to shrink, to become… what? The infinitesimal? What was I? Still a human being? Or was I the man of the future?
We’re home, System Command. It took us a while, but we’re home."
No, I’m from Iowa. I only work in outer space.
Col. William ‘Hawk’ Hawkins: Would you prefer this man, with his asymmetrical sagging ass-cheeks, his love-handles the size of Nebraska, and his oh-so-ugly in-grown toenail…?
Frank Corvin: [interrupting] Or this son of a bitch with the chicken-gizzard neck and the face that looks like thirty miles of Death Valley fire trail?
But you don’t die. You change. You pop right back up with a new face.
He’s a cockroach; first you think you kill him and he pops right back up again!
Can I eat it or will it eat me?
Feed me, Seymour.
Here. Here’s some ketchup. Start at your feet, work your way up.
I’m perfectly sane.