"I don't want to die now. I've still got a headache. I don't want to go to heaven with a headache, I'd be all cross and wouldn't enjoy it"

"You know," said Arthur, "it's at times like this, when I'm trapped in a Vogon airlock with a man from Betelgeuse, and about to die of asphyxiation in deep space that I really wish I'd listened to what my mother told me when I was young."
[Ford Prefect:] "Why, what did she tell you?"
[Arthur:] "I don't know, I didn't listen."

Arthur: "Marvin, any ideas?"
Marvin: "I have a million ideas. They all point to certain death."

"Ford," he said, "you're turning into a penguin. Stop it."

"Why do you need to think? Can't we just sit and go budumbudumbudum with our lips for a bit?"

He [Arthur] had an odd feeling of being like a man in the act of adultery who is surprised when the woman's husband wanders into the room, changes his trousers, passes a few idle remarks about the weather and leaves again.

"Have you any idea how much damage that bulldozer would suffer if I just let it roll straight over you?" said Mr. Prosser. "How much?" asked Arthur. "None at all," Mr. Prosser replied.

Ford: "It's unpleasantly like being drunk."
Arthur: "What's so unpleasant about being drunk?"
Ford: "You ask a glass of water."

Ford, there is an infinite number of monkeys outside, who wants to talk to us about this script for Hamlet they have worked out.

Arthur: "Ford, I think I'm a sofa."
Ford: "I know how you feel."

"Who said anything about panicking?" snapped Arthur. "This is still just the culture shock. You wait till I've settled down into the situation and found my bearings. Then I'll start panicking!"

Ford stood up. "We're safe," he said.
"Oh good," said Arthur.
"We're in a small galley cabin," said Ford, "in one of the spaceships of the Vogon Constructor Fleet."
"Ah," said Arthur, "this is obviously some strange usage of the word safe that I wasn't previously aware of."

"This must be Thursday," said Arthur musing to himself, sinking low over his beer, "I never could get the hang of Thursdays."

"I seem to be having this tremendous difficulty with my lifestyle. As soon as I reach some kind of definite policy about what is my kind of music and my kind of restaurant and my kind of overdraft, people start blowing up my kind of planet and throwing me out of their kind of spaceships!"

"How do you feel?" he [Ford Prefect] asked.
"Like a military academy," said Arthur, "bits of me keep on passing out."