What can we make of the inexpressible joy of children? It is a kind of gratitude, I think—the gratitude of the ten-year-old who wakes to her own energy and the brisk challenge of the world. You thought you knew the place and all its routines, but y...
She wanted to explain everything to him—how certain notes of the Moonlight Sonata shredded her heart like wind inside a paper bag; how her soul felt as endless and deep as the sea churning on their left; how the sight of the young Muslim couple fil...
How long your closet held a whiff of you, Long after hangers hung austere and bare. I would walk in and suddenly the true Sharp sweet sweat scent controlled the air And life was in that small still living breath. Where are you? since so much of you i...
Apocalyptic saucer cults have started to spring up all over America. One small group, which has been receiving messages from outer space via Lake City housewife Mrs. Marian Keech, becomes the subject of a research team led by psychologist Leon Festin...
The Rough Beast snorted. “You don’t get it at all, buddy. It’s not about wrestling. It’s about stories. We’re storytellers.” Caperton studied him. “Somebody at my job just said that.” “It’s true! You have to be able to tell the st...
The undiscovered is not far away. It’s not something to be found eventually. It is contained within what is right in front of us. The essence of reality is being born right now. It has never existed before. Reality is constant creation and destruct...
Leonard 'Bones' McCoy: I may throw up on ya. James T. Kirk: I think these things are pretty safe. Leonard 'Bones' McCoy: Don't pander to me, kid. One tiny crack in the hull and our blood boils in thirteen seconds. Solar flare might crop up, cook us i...
Rex: Mr. Lightyear, now I'm curious... what does a space ranger actually do? Woody: He's not a space ran-*ger*! He doesn't fight evil or, or... shoot lasers or fly. Buzz: Excuse me. Buzz: [Buzz deploys his wings; all exclaim in excitement] Hamm: Wow....
By looking far out into space we are also looking far back into time, back toward the horizon of the universe, back toward the epoch of the Big Bang.
The measure of your character and mental toughness is the space between what you are doing and what you could be doing
Sighing, he settled into his chair, watching the vision of space at his front. It was stoic, calm, and never ending—deadly, if you weren't careful.
And it didn't matter. It wouldn't make a fucking difference if I dropped to the floor and started crying like a baby. No point in panicking. No point in breaking. No point in anything at all.
'You're like starlight,' Cam whispered, and his teeth scraped up my jaw. I shivered. 'I could lose myself in you.'
We took space back quickly, expensively, with total panic and close to maximum brutality. Our machine was devastating. And versatile. It could do everything but stop.
I am done slowing down, giving people their time and space, letting them explore their options.
Did Belikov bend the rules of time and space to get here so fast? He can do that, right?
In the empty expanses of space, the wandering traders need men like myself to care for the spiritual side of a life so given over to commerce, and worldly pursuits.
I wish I could fly like that hawk, rising and falling with the still spaces in the air, far above all this sickness and death and evil.
Everything in life had a purpose, and unless it achieved that purpose, it was just taking up space on the planet and wasting everybody's time.
I'm going to be a great leader of this generation. The stars in the space up there are my witnesses.
Using the voice is a physical act, one that first announces the existence of the body of residence and then trumpets its arrival in a public space.
