"But that's not the point!" raged Ford "The point is that I am now a perfectly safe penguin, and my colleague here is rapidly running out of limbs!"

It wasn't merely that their left hand didn't always know what their right hand was doing, so to speak; quite often their right hand had a pretty hazy notion as well.

"I come in peace," the silver robot said, adding after a long moment of further grinding, "take me to your Lizard."

"Come on," he droned, "I've been ordered to take you down to the bridge. Here I am, brain the size of a planet and they ask me to take you down to the bridge. Call that job satisfaction? 'Cos I don't."

As you stare at the clock the hands will move relentlessly on to four o’clock, and you will enter the long dark teatime of the soul.

The story so far:
In the beginning the Universe was created.
This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.

There is an art, it says, or rather, a knack to flying. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss. ... Clearly, it is this second part, the missing, which presents the difficulties.

"Life," said Marvin dolefully, "loathe it or ignore it, you can't like it."

"Mr. Beeblebrox, sir," said the insect in awed wonder, "you're so weird you should be in movies."
"Yeah," said Zaphod patting the thing on a glittering pink wing, "and you, baby, should be in real life."

Anything that, in happening, causes itself to happen again, happens again.
It doesn't necessarily do it in chronological order, though.

Looking up into the night sky is looking into infinity—distance is incomprehensible and therefore meaningless.

The ship was rocking and swaying sickeningly as Ford and Zaphod tried to wrest control from the autopilot. The engines howled and whined like tired children in a supermarket.

Anything that happens, happens.
Anything that, in happening, causes something else to happen, causes something else to happen.
Anything that, in happening, causes itself to happen again, happens again.
It doesn't necessarily do it in chronological order, though.

As you stare at the clock the hands will move relentlessly on to four o’clock, and you will enter the long dark teatime of the soul.

It is a mistake to think you can solve any major problems just with potatoes.

The ships hung in the sky in much the same way that bricks don't.

It's not every day a Galactic President gets dumped out of an air lock by his own head.

Lallafa had lived in the forests of the Long Lands of Effa.

At the center of an uncertain and possibly illusionary universe there would always be tea.

Zaphod finds an airline in the desert and boards