“On his first parade the sergeant-major exclaimed that he couldn't make out the shape of Arthur's head because there was so much hair on it, and Arthur jocularly agreed to get it cut, intending to forget about it until the fifteen days was over, which he did. 'You're a soldier now, not a Teddy-boy,' the sergeant-major said, but Arthur knew he was wrong in either case. He was nothing at all when people tried to tell him what he was. Not even his own name was enough, though it might be on on his pay-book. What am I? he wondered. A six-foot pit-prop that wants a pint of ale. That's what I am. And if any knowing bastard says that's what I am, I'm a dynamite-dealer, Sten-gun seller, hundred-ton tank trader, a capstan-lathe operator waiting to blow the army to Kingdom Cum. I'm me and nobody else; and what people think I am or say I am, that's what I'm not, because they don't know a bloody thing about me.”

Alan Sillitoe

Alan Sillitoe - “On his first parade the sergeant-major...” 1

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“I'm me and nobody else; and whatever people think I am or say I am, that's what I'm not, because they don't know a bloody thing about me.”

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“Zaphod left the controls for Ford to figure out, and lurched over to Arthur."Look, Earthman," he said angrily, "you've got a job to do, right? The Question to the Ultimate Answer, right?""What, that thing?" said Arthur, "I thought we'd forgotten about that.""Not me, baby. Like the mice said, it's worth a lot of money in the right quarters. And it's all locked up in that head thing of yours.""Yes but ...""But nothing! Think about it. The Meaning of Life! We get our fingers on that we can hold every shrink in the Galaxy up to ransom, and that's worth a bundle. I owe mine a mint."Arthur took a deep breath without much enthusiasm."Alright," he said, "but where do we start? How should I know? They say the Ultimate Answer or whatever is Forty-two, how am I supposed to know what the question is? It could be anything. I mean, what's six times seven?"Zaphod looked at him hard for a moment. Then his eyes blazed with excitement."Forty-two!" he cried.Arthur wiped his palm across his forehead."Yes," he said patiently, "I know that."Zaphod's faces fell."I'm just saying that the question could be anything at all," said Arthur, "and I don't see how I am meant to know.”

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“People from my first home say I'm brave. They tell me I'm strong. They pat me on the back and say, 'Way to go. Good job.' But the truth is, I am not really very brave; I am not really very strong; and I am not doing anything spectacular. I am simply doing what God has called me to do as a person who follows Him. He said to feed His sheep and He said to care for 'the least of these,' so that's what I'm doing, with the help of a lot people who make it possible and in the company of those who make my life worth living”

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“Do you ever wonder what it's like to be so angry that you...And then something happens, and after that, everyone figures that's what you're like, and that's what you're always going to be, and so you just decide to be it? But the whole time you're thinking, Am I going to be like him? Or am I already like him? And then you get angrier, because maybe you are, and you want...He stopped. He wiped at his eyes. I'm not lying. My brother wiped at his eyes.”

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“What's the problem Earthman?" said Zaphod, now transferring his attention to the animal's enormous rump."I just don't want to eat an animal that's standing here inviting me to," said Arthur, "it's heartless.""Better than eating an animal that doesn't want to be eaten," said Zaphod."That's not the point," Arthur protested. Then he thought about it for a moment. "Alright," he said, "maybe it is the point. I don't care, I'm not going to think about it now. I'll just ... er ..."The Universe raged about him in its death throes."I think I'll just have a green salad," he muttered."May I urge you to consider my liver?" asked the animal, "it must be very rich and tender by now, I've been force-feeding myself for months.""A green salad," said Arthur emphatically."A green salad?" said the animal, rolling his eyes disapprovingly at Arthur."Are you going to tell me," said Arthur, "that I shouldn't have green salad?""Well," said the animal, "I know many vegetables that are very clear on that point. Which is why it was eventually decided to cut through the whole tangled problem and breed an animal that actually wanted to be eaten and was capable of saying so clearly and distinctly. And here I am."It managed a very slight bow."Glass of water please," said Arthur.”

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