[...], so that your hope grows so vast that it fills every region of your space.
I have to say that my husband and my children are so tough, there really is no space for pretension.
I had thought about landing in the Kremlin, but there wasn't enough space.
Exit is a letter away from Exist. A part, just a space away from Apart.
God invented space so that not everything had to happen in Princeton.
I think what's important is to give space to the range of human experience.
Mental communication without verbalization... all space is made up of waves and we are constantly sending and receiving messages from our brain.
The future of the television industry is changing at an unstoppable rate, and it is exciting to share my experience and thoughts on how this will change the value of content in the digital space.
I don't believe in having spaces in the home that don't get used. We pay so much for square footage that to waste it is criminal.
Why does everyone think the future is space helmets, silver foil, and talking like computers, like a bad episode of Star Trek?
I had more clothes than I had closets, more cars than garage space, but no money.
The Earth reminded us of a Christmas tree ornament hanging in the blackness of space. As we got farther and farther away it diminished in size. Finally it shrank to the size of a marble, the most beautiful marble you can imagine.
Death is final. No it is not just final, it's worse than that, it's diminishing: the dead continue to decrease, to occupy less space.
Space and light and order. Those are the things that men need just as much as they need bread or a place to sleep.
One of the great themes in American literature is the individual's confrontation with the vast open spaces of the continent.
The inner spaces that a good story lets us enter are the old apartments of religion.
It's a very sobering feeling to be up in space and realize that one's safety factor was determined by the lowest bidder on a government contract.
My fear is dying badly, through illness or injury. But what a glorious demise it would be to burn up in space.
The universe is a symphony of strings, and the mind of God that Einstein eloquently wrote about for thirty years would be cosmic music resonating through eleven-dimensional hyper space.
The way I choose to live my own life rates time and space as real luxuries.
Of all the diversions of life, there is none so proper to fill up its empty spaces as the reading of useful and entertaining authors.
