We had the sky up there, all speckled with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and discuss about whether they was made, or only just happened - jim he allowed they was made, but i allowed they happened; i judged it would have took too long to make so many. Jim said the moon could a laid them; well that looked kind of reasonable, so i didn't say nothing against it, because i've seen a frog lay most as many, so of course it could be done.
He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was albus dumbledore.
If we can avoid disaster for the next two centuries, our species should be safe as we spread into space. If we are the only intellegent beings in the galaxy we should make sure we survive and continue. . . . Our only chance of long-term survival is not to remain inward looking on planet earth but to spread out into space. We have maderemarkable progress in the last hundred years. But if we want to continue beyond the next hundred years, our future is in space.
I was grateful to see president obama's victory speech. I was over the moon to see the audience. There were about 60 percent white voters the other 40 percent were african americans, asian, spanish speaking etc. I wept at that spectacle, it told me that the pundits that continue in our country to try to polarize us, to keep us apart, are not succeeding. Americans are waking up not only to the truth, but the truth in each other. Hallelujah!
The spirit of god, like the sun, always gives all its light at once. The spirit of man resembles the pale moon, which has its phases, its absences and its returns, its lucidity and its spots, its fullness and its disappearance, which borrows all its light from the rays of the sun, and which still dares to intercept them on occasion.
But it's strange, when you've always been told something is true, like the moon will come back. You need proof. And while you wait, you feel the entire balance of your world just tipping. It's crazy. But when it's over, and it does come back, that's the best, because it's all you want, everything narrows to just that. It's this great rush, like for that one second everything's okay with the world again. It's amazing.
The moon is a loyal companion.It never leaves. It's always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it's a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human.Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.
Let me twine mine arms about that body, where against my grained ash an hundred times hath broke and scarr'd the moon with splinters: here i clip the anvil of my sword, and do contest as hotly and as nobly with thy love as ever in ambitious strength i did contend against thy valour. Know thou first, i loved the maid i married; never man sigh'd truer breath; but that i see thee here, thou noble thing! More dances my rapt heart than when i first my wedded mistress saw bestride my threshold.