“I am free, no matter what rules surround me. If I find them tolerable, I tolerate them; if I find them too obnoxious, I break them. I am free because I know that I alone am morally responsible for everything I do.”
Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four. If that is granted, all else follows.
Everyone continued to stare at him. Him being the galaxy’s most notorious terrorist. Or freedom fighter, depending on how you looked at things. But either way, the pronoun was him!
The cheerful smile remained. “Please, everyone, relax. I left my horns and cloven hooves at home. True, I did bring the tail—but it’s only vestigial, I assure you.”
Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.
[a group of children is defacing a Visitor propaganda poster with red spray paint]
[Abraham Bernstein]: No! If you’re going to do it, do it right. I’ll show you. [he guides the hand of a child to spray a letter “V” over the poster] You understand? For Victory! Go tell your friends!
However, Pete, being a proper cat, prefers to go outdoors, and he has never given up his conviction that if you just try all the doors one of them is bound to be the Door into Summer.
Dandelion wine. The words were summer on the tongue. The wine was summer caught and stoppered…sealed away for opening on a January day with snow falling fast and the sun unseen for weeks.
Fry: What if the secret ingredient is… people!?
Leela: Oh, there’s already a soda like that. Soylent Cola.
Fry: Oh, how is it?
Leela: It varies from person to person.
That’s all I needed! Good cup of tea! Super-heated infusion of free-radicals and tannin, just the thing for healing the synapses.
This is a high-minded institution dedicated to the pursuit of the sublime beverage; likely as not, were we to admit women they would introduce embroidery, or worse still, insist on drinking tea.
“What shocked us the most was that we had no idea why we should be so shocked. Like opening a ginger ale and finding Jamesons’ inside: nothing wrong with it, but it sort of takes you by surprise.”
And you look different too, somehow. That smile. Have they altered your medication? Wouldn’t surprise me. These medieval quacks are more proficient at phrenology than psychopharmacology
“Do you really think it’s safe? If he’s as psycho as you say.”
“Brilliant—nervous—skittish—but he’s all right as long as his medications are adjusted properly, I promise you. I expect his dose is a little off at the moment, due to our irregular travels.”
“Give me your favorite scenario for taking this base intact.”
““Favorite” or “Most likely”? See, I’m a little crazy, and my favorite scenario is really expensive.”
“The Doctor briefs me weekly regarding exactly how crazy you are. I want your favorite.”
“Moonbase Alpha, we have a problem!”
“Oh, how about that? Join the tribe, Space Station One!”
Security engage all emergency procedures alpha protocol 28 code 1 alpha zero.
The emergency jettisoning charges hurled the entire side of Fusion One out into space a microsecond before the ejection charges blew the reactor after it. There had to be a delay, be it ever so tiny, lest a faltering mag bottle be smashed against an intact bulkhead and liberate its plasma inside the ship. But small as that delay was, it was almost too long.
“Hazel, the reflecting foil we’ve been salvaging - is it on the jettison list?”
“Certainly. We’ll pick up some more on Mars for the trip back. Why?”
“A radar corner - that’s whyl”
“What are the facts? Again and again and again – what are the facts? Shun wishful thinking, ignore divine revelation, forget what “the stars foretell,” avoid opinion, care not what the neighbors think, never mind the unguessable “verdict of history” – what are the facts, and to how many decimal places? You pilot always into an unknown future; facts are your single clue. Get the facts!”
His father used to say that the future is written on flowing water with a pitchfork.