Yeah, well… I’m gonna go build my own theme park, with blackjack and hookers. In fact, forget the park!
Oh, yeah, “ooh, aah”, that’s how it always starts. But then later there’s running and screaming.
In space, no one can hear you scream.
It happened so quickly, so unexpectedly, that Little Jon’s cry was almost instantly cut short as the blackness closed over him.
I know how alone you feel… alone in all that cold blackness… but I’m there in the dark with you. Oh Bud you’re not alone…
They say most of your brain shuts down in cryo-sleep. All but the primitive side, the animal side. No wonder I’m still awake. Transporting me with civilians. Sounded like 40, 40-plus. Heard an Arab voice. Some hoodoo holy man, probably on his way to New Mecca. But what route? What route? I smelt a woman. Sweat, boots, tool belt, leather. Prospector type. Free settlers. And they only take the back roads. And here’s my real problem. Mr. Johns… the blue-eyed devil. Planning on taking me back to slam… only this time he picked a ghost lane. A long time between stops. A long time for something to go wrong…
Before I can telephone you to your friend in Kansas City, Miss Lane, I have to take all the air out from in between your atoms and start you vibrating.
Shell-people did not, strictly speaking, breathe.
They were still in vacuum…thicker vacuum that was heating up. If there wasn’t enough air to give bite to the control surfaces, a pilot must call it vacuum.
I have seen some strange, bizarre drivers, but you. You will be awarded a cake.
Captain, you are an excellent starship captain. But as a taxi driver, you leave much to be desired.
Welcome to Johnnycab. Please state the street and number.
We better get back, 'cause it’ll be dark soon and they mostly come at night. Mostly.
Did you feed them after midnight?
Lawri spoke of a citizen’s last duty, to feed the tree.
Citizens don’t lay a hand to me without they got permission or provocation.
Greetings, Citizen! Happiness is mandatory! Are you happy?
But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.
Mellow greetings, citizen. What seems to be your boggle?
An Atreides daughter could have been wed to a Harkonnen heir and sealed the breach!