Quotes About Stars

Space doesn't offer an escape from Earth's problems. And even with nuclear fuel, the transit time to nearby stars exceeds a human lifetime. Interstellar travel is therefore, in my view, an enterprise for post-humans, evolved from our species not via natural selection, but by design.

Last night was remarkably clear. I looked up at the sky to find the Argo. I'm terrible at constellations. I can never make out any of them except for Orion and his belt. But the longer I stared, the more the sky seemed like an ocean, and then I saw an entire fleet of ships made of stars. A flotilla was anchored at the moon, while others were casting off. I imagined we were on one of those ships, sailing on moonlight.

Recall that the Milky Way is a disk galaxy, meaning most of the stars and gas lie in a thin disk, about 130,000 light-years across but only roughly 2,000 light-years in thickness. The Sun is located at a distance of about 27,000 light-years from the galactic center, and happens at this moment to be close to the galactic midplane—less than 100 light-years away. It is also at the edge of a spiral arm.

You are a God of winds and tides. Of journeys and storms and navigation by stars and faith.

What is it with these prophets? Almost without exception ordinary men, some of them with more vices than virtues, suddenly they were touched with fire. Is it that a man sees best the stars when he is prone?

No sight is more provocative of awe than is the night sky.

The stars are honest and sensible. But humanity is insane !

Thanks to dreams, in the history of the galaxy the world has been reinvented more often than there are stars.

Man ever is and always shall be blessed; for he loves, and love is an onward current that never ebbs; and borne upon this current humanity will at last make its far, fair haven; and meanwhile, as it voyages, it will find the course not too rough, but glorified by frequent halcyon days and calm nights set with stars.

I love the flesh. I'm a pagan. "Who are they who speak evil of the clay? The very stars are made of clay like mine!"

Between your love for me and mine for you --air of stars and tremor of plant-- a thicket of anemones raises with a dark moan an entire year.

Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven!

The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space.

she gave thanks to the images of the stars for the joy she had had of the night, when the constellations shone in their myriad majesty, and moved like an army dresses in silver mail, marching from unknown victories to conquer in distant wars. She praised those bright reflections shimmering down in the pool.

The stars in the dark vault of sky were endless. Soft green and blue light with tinges of peach at the edges waved across it in silent curtains. The curtains of gods. "I think she's watching us from up there." Tears leaked silently down her face. And in that instant she was certain that from up there, everything must look like it had a plan. A reason. A pattern. She just couldn't see it from down here.

And so, as the stars came out, Miles took up his basket and made his way in the moonlight to the river, to the place where he'd hidden the little boat. It was gone. No great surprise, really. The region was notorious. Why shouldn't someone steal his boat? He'd return the favor and steal someone else's. Tomorrow. Tonight, though, he wanted a proper dinner. He set about fashioning a fishing line.

For it was there, among the fanciful beasts, under all the glimmering stars in the clear night sky, and amidst a sprinkling of pink rose petals that the Duke and Duchess of Belmore made magic.

To get through the night, I sometimes imagined the sky filled with a canopy of stars. I imagined that each star contained the soul of a girl or boy who had died too young, and the light the stars gave off was their brightness.

The stars are beautiful—diamonds, twinkles, something you can wish upon. The space in between the stars is the sublime—cold, black, and infinite, something that inspires awe and fear.

During her lectures, she explains the difference between the beautiful and the sublime this way: The stars are beautiful—diamonds, twinkles, something you can wish upon. The space in between the stars is the sublime—cold, black, and infinite, something that inspires awe and fear.

she explains the difference between the beautiful and the sublime this way: The stars are beautiful—diamonds, twinkles, something you can wish upon. The space in between the stars is the sublime—cold, black, and infinite, something that inspires awe and fear.

Pru Harris's mom had taught her to make wishes on pink cars, falling leaves, and brass lamps, because wishing on something as ordinary as stars or wishing wells was a sign of no imagination. Clearly

Hell's holy stars and freaking stones shit bells.

Have you ever been approached by a grim-looking man, carrying a naked sword with a blade about ten miles long in his hand, in the middle of the night, beneath the stars on the shores of Lake Michigan? If you have, seek professional help. If you have not, then believe you me, it can scare the bejeezus out of you.