Arthur Dent: Ford, there's an infinite number of monkeys out here who want to talk to us about this script for Hamlet they've worked out.
Shooty: Either you all give yourselves up and let us beat you up a little - though not too much, because we are firmly opposed to needless violence - or we blow up this entire planet - and one or two others that we noticed on the way over.
Frankie Mouse: Still, the best laid plans of mice.
Arthur Dent: And men.
Frankie Mouse: What?
Arthur Dent: And men. The best laid plans of mice and men.
Frankie Mouse: What have men got to do with it?
Deep Thought: You're really not going to like it.
Lunkwill: Tell us.
Deep Thought: The answer to the Great Question...
Deep Thought: ...of life, the universe, and everything...
Deep Thought: ...is...
Deep Thought: ...is...
Deep Thought: Forty-two.
Deep Thought: It was a tough assignment.
Deep Thought: Speak.
Lunkwill: O, Deep Thought, Computer, the task we have designed you to perform is this. We want you to tell us the Answer.
Deep Thought: The Answer? The Answer to what?
Lunkwill: The Universe.
Deep Thought: Tricky.
Fook: But can you do it?
Deep Thought: Yes, I can do it.
Fook: You can!
Lunkwill: There, there, there is an answer? A simple answer?
Deep Thought: Yes. Life, the Universe and Everything, there is an answer. But I'll have to think about it. (The door is broken down)
Vroomfondel: We demand admission!
Lunkwill: Hey! What?
Fook: Hey, hey, hey!
Majicthise: Come on, you can't keep us out!
Vroomfondel: We demand that you can't keep us out!
Lunkwill: Who are you? What do you want? We're busy!
Lunkwill: Oh, come on! I think this is getting needlessly Messianic.
Slartibartfast: Perhaps I'm old and tired, but I always think that the chances of finding out what really is going on are so absurdly remote that the only thing to do is to say 'Hang the sense of it' and just keep yourself occupied.
Deep Thought: The Great Hyperlobic Omnicognate Neutron-Wrangler can talk all four legs off an Arcturan Mega-Donkey, but only I could persuade it to go for a walk afterwards.
Rumor had it that Douglas Adams had asked a complex question to his writing partner of the mid-70s, Monty Python's Graham Chapman, and Chapman simply said "42." Adams went to his grave denying this.