Klaatu barada nikto!
Rubber baby buggy bumpers!
Butter bugs are highly controllable, ecologically speaking.
I don’t mean to panic anyone, but I’m afraid the calamari has been infested with baby squid.
Mindy McConnell: Mork, why are you building a tower of Cheerios?
Mork: Because it’s hard to stack oatmeal.
After all these years, is that the only question you have to ask me?
Tell me, Dr. Memory, why does the porridge bird lay his eggs in the air?
At the time, it seemed the logical thing to do.
Are you sure it isn’t time for a colorful metaphor?
Consider the true picture. Think of myriads of tiny bubbles, very sparsely scattered, rising through a vast black sea. We rule some of the bubbles. Of the waters we know nothing…
The mind is a strange and wonderful thing. I’m not sure it will ever be able to figure itself out. Everything else maybe, from the atom to the universe. Everything except itself.
"No, no, no, no. You gotta listen to the way people talk! You don’t say ‘affirmative,’ or some shit like that. You say ‘no problemo.’ And if someone comes on to you with an attitude you say ‘eat me.’ And if you want to shine them on, it’s “hasta la vista, baby!’”
“Hasta la vista, baby.”
“Yeah, or ‘later, dickwad.’ And if someone gets upset you say, ‘chill out!’ Or you can do combinations.”
“Chill out, dickwad.”
“Great! See, you’re getting it!”
“No problemo.”
Well, well, well, well. If it isn’t fat, stinking billygoat Billy-Boy in poison. How art thou, thy globby bottle of cheap, stinking chip-oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly thou.
I would hope for a more mature and reasoned response from you.
I’m what you would call a teleological, existential atheist. I believe that there’s an intelligence to the universe, with the exception of certain parts of New Jersey.
You can check your anatomy all you want, and even though there may be normal variation, when it comes right down to it, this far inside the head it all looks the same. No, no, no, don’t tug on that. You never know what it might be attached to.
Let’s see what happens.
I just thought that you should know. That you were happy once… with me.
Luna Schlosser: Oh, I see. You don’t believe in science, and you also don’t believe that political systems work, and you don’t believe in God, huh?
Miles Monroe: Right.
Luna Schlosser: So then, what do you believe in?
Miles Monroe: Sex and death - two things that come once in a lifetime… but at least after death, you’re not nauseous.
A life in ruins with vomiting was still a life in ruins.