Skip navigation.

Douglas Adams, fully Douglas Noel Adams

(1952 - 2001)


English Writer and Dramatist. Best known for "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"

'Oh, how easy!' says Man, and for an encore, goes on to prove that black is white, and then be killed on the first pedestrian crossing that subsequently encounters.
1) Everything that’s already in the world when you’re born is just normal; 2) anything that gets invented between then and before you turn thirty is incredibly exciting and creative and with any luck you can make a career out of it; 3) anything that gets invented after you’re thirty is against the natural order of things and the beginning of the end of civilization as we know it until it’s been around for about ten years when it gradually turns out to be alright really.
42 is a nice number that you can take home and introduce to your family.
A beach house isn't just real estate. It's a state of mind.
A common mistake that people make when trying to design something completely foolproof is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools.
A computer chatted to itself in alarm as it noticed an airlock open and close itself for no apparent reason. This was because Reason was in fact out to lunch.
A couple of turns on I was utterly astray. One school of thought advises in such cases, consult a map, but I say this to people simply, What if you do not have a map? But what if you only have the map of the Dordogne? My strategy is: find the nearest car or its equivalent, which looks as if he knew where he was going, and I'm going after him. Rarely always land where it was going, but it often always land where I should be.
A cup of tea would restore my normality.
A doctor, a logician and a marine biologist had also just arrived, flown in at phenomenal expense from Maximegalon to try to reason with the lead singer who had locked himself in the bathroom with a bottle of pills and was refusing to come out till it could be proved conclusively to him that he wasn't a fish. The bass player was busy machine-gunning his bedroom and the drummer was nowhere on board. Frantic inquiries led to the discovery that he was standing on a beach on Santraginus V over a hundred light years away where, he claimed, he had been happy for over half an hour now and had found a small stone that would be his friend.
A fragrant breeze wandered up from the quiet sea, trailed along the beach, and drifted back to the sea again, wondering where to go next. On a mad impulse it went up to the beach again. It drifted back to sea.