The Complete Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: The Trilogy of Five (UK Edition)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
On 12 October 1979 the most remarkable book ever to come out of the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor (and Earth) was made available to humanity. This was of course The Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. But this was just the beginning. We followed the adventures of hapless protagonist, Arthur Dent and his alien side-kick, Ford Prefect, across a trilogy of five books: The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy series. And this merry spacewagon, featuring a flying sofa, a Paranoid Android, a gift-wrapped fishbowl, bath towels and much else besides, became an instant classic.
Now, for the first time, we are publishing all five books in the Hitchhiker's series, as an ebook omnibus.
Praise for The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series
‘It changed my whole life. It’s literally out of this world’ Tom Baker
‘Really entertaining and fun’ Michael Palin
‘It is funny and funny in every way . . . it is the sort of humour which crops up from time to time and immediately find its own level, its own audience’ Daily Telegraph
‘Indispensable reading for mental hitch-hikers who want to thumb a lift out of the ruts of orthodox thought . . .science fiction that is very intelligently amusing, or very amusingly intelligent’ Daily Mail
Uploader note: Converted from retail MOBI
and heart-searching during which he consulted friends, sat in darkened rooms in illegal states of mind, thought about this and that, fooled about with weights, and then, after a chance encounter with the Holy Lunching Friars of Voondoon (who claimed that just as lunch was at the centre of a man’s temporal day, and man’s temporal day could be seen as an analogy for his spiritual life, so lunch should (a) be seen as the centre of a man’s spiritual life, and (b) be held in jolly nice restaurants),
harmless,’ admitted Ford with a slightly embarrassed cough. ‘Mostly harmless,’ shouted Arthur. ‘What was that noise?’ hissed Ford. ‘It was me shouting,’ shouted Arthur. ‘No! Shut up!’ said Ford. ‘I think we’re in trouble.’ ‘You think we’re in trouble!’ Outside the door were the clear sounds of marching footsteps. ‘The Dentrassi?’ whispered Arthur. ‘No, those are steel-tipped boots,’ said Ford. There was a sharp ringing rap on the door. ‘Then who is it?’ said Arthur. ‘Well,’ said Ford,
extraordinarily short memories, including him. Eight years of crazed wanderings round the Galaxy now seemed to him not so much like a bad dream as like a film he had videotaped from the TV and kept in the back of a cupboard without bothering to watch. One effect that still lingered, though, was his joy at being back. Now that the Earth’s atmosphere had closed over his head for good, he thought, wrongly, everything within it gave him extraordinary pleasure. Looking at the silvery sparkle of the
running jump as far as she was concerned. It was Saturday morning. She had just got home from New York feeling tired, crabby and paranoid, and all she wanted to do was go to bed with the radio on quietly and gradually fall asleep to the sound of Ned Sherrin being terribly clever about something. But Eric Bartlett was not going to let her get away with not making a thorough inspection of the marks. Eric was the old gardener who came in from the village on Saturday mornings to poke around at her
Beeblebrox?’ asked one iguana of another iguana. ‘I think so,’ replied the second iguana. ‘Well, doesn’t that just take the biscuit,’ said the first iguana. ‘Funny old thing, life,’ said the second iguana. ‘It’s what you make it,’ said the first and they lapsed back into silence. They were waiting for the greatest show in the Universe. ‘Hey, Zaphod,’ said Ford, grabbing for his arm and, on account of the third Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, missing. He pointed a swaying finger. ‘There’s an