Martin Freeman: Arthur Dent

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Arthur Dent

Arthur: All my life I've had this strange feeling that there's something big and sinister going on in the world.
Slartibartfast: No, that's perfectly normal paranoia. Everyone in the universe gets that.

Arthur: [sarcastically] Normality? Right, we can talk about normality until the cows come home.
Ford: [thoughtfully] What is normal?
Trillian: [wistfully] What is home?
Zaphod: [cluelessly] What're cows?

Arthur Dent: Just wait a sodding minute! You want a question that goes with the answer for 42? Well, how about what's six times seven? Or how many Vogons does it take to change a lightbulb? Here's one! How many roads must a man walk down?
Lunkwill: Hey, that's not bad!
Arthur Dent: Fine. Fine, take it. Because my head is filled with questions and I can assure you no answer to any one of them has ever brought me one iota of happiness. Except for one. The one. The only question I've ever wanted an answer to - is she the one? The answer bloody well isn't forty-two, it's yes. Undoubtedly, unequivocally, unabashedly yes. And for one week, one week in my sad little blip of an existence, it made me happy.
Trillian: That's a good answer...
Lunkwill: Rubbish, we don't want to be happy, we want to be famous!
Fook: Yeah! What is all this "is she the one" tripe?
Lunkwill: Take his brain!

Trillian: You idiot! You signed the order to destroy Earth!
Zaphod: I did?
Arthur: He did?
Trillian: Love and kisses Zaphod? You didn't even read it, did you?
Zaphod: Well, I'm president, I don't have a lot of time for reading.
Trillian: My whole planet destroyed because you thought someone wanted your autograph!

Slartibartfast: Perhaps I'm old and tired, but I think that the chances of finding out what's actually going on are so absurdly remote that the only thing to do is to say, "Hang the sense of it," and keep yourself busy. I'd much rather be happy than right any day.
Arthur Dent: And are you?
Slartibartfast: Ah, no.
[laughs, snorts]
Slartibartfast: Well, that's where it all falls down, of course.

Trillian: Who are you?
Arthur: Er, Dent, Arthur Dent.
Trillian: No, I mean *who* are you?
Arthur: Oh, the costume. Er, Livingston I presume. Yeah. Not as good as Darwin I know but the best I could manage at short notice.
Trillian: You're the first person whose gotten that right. Everyone keeps calling me Santa.
Arthur: Really?
Trillian: Yeah, and I thought the beagle made it a dead giveaway.
Arthur: Well, I suppose most of the people who come to these parties are idiots.
Trillian: What?
[the record player is bumped, the music stops]
Arthur: I said all these people are idiots!
[everyone stares at him]
Arthur: Oh god...

Marvin: You can blame the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation for making androids with GPP...
Arthur: Um... what's GPP?
Marvin: [despondently] Genuine People Personalities. I'm a personality prototype. You can tell, can't you...?

Ford: Didn't you think it was strange I was trying to shake hands with a car?
Arthur: I assumed you were drunk.
Ford: I thought cars were the dominant lifeform. I was trying to introduce myself.

Mr. Prosser: Do you know how much damage this bulldozer would sustain if I just let it roll over you?
Arthur: How much?
Mr. Prosser: None at all.

Ford: Okay, don't think. Nobody think. No ideas. No theories. No nothing.
[a beat. They all strain to think of nothing. Several paddles shoot up out of the ground smacking them in their faces]
Ford, Arthur, Zaphod: Ow!

Ford: [after being thrown into the airlock by a guard] Wash your filthy hands!
[looks around]
Ford: Don't panic... don't panic...
Arthur: So this is it. We're gonna die.
Ford: Yeah. We're gonna die.
[pauses]
Ford: No... no! What's this?
[goes over to control panel]
Arthur: What's that?
Ford: What's this...? What's this...?
[flips switch]
Ford: This... is... nothing. Yeah, we're gonna die.