Quotes About Space

them had been from Mars. But

If a satellite in space ever mapped the myriad of lone tracks and trails across Mongolia, it would resemble a plate of spaghetti dropped on the floor.

I'm happy to scrap with you, Macey darling, but we might do a little too much damage in this small space.

Freedom was a thing that shifted as you looked at it, the way a forest is dense with the trees up close but from the outside, from the empty meadow, you see its true limits. Being free had nothing to do with chains or how much space you had. On the plantation, she was not free, but she moved unrestricted on its acres, tasting the air and tracing the summer stars. The place was big in its smallness. Here, she was free of her master but slunk around a warren so tiny she couldn't stand.

They jostled one another, competed for space below as they did above, in a minuet of ruin and triumph. In the subway, down in the dark, no citizen was more significant or more decrepit than another. All were smeared into a common average of existence, the A's and the C's tumbling or rising to settle into a ruthless mediocrity. No escape.

I called to the Lord from my narrow prison and He answered me in the freedom of space.

To Romans I set no boundary in space or time. I have granted them dominion, and it has no end.

I need solitude. I need space. I need air. I need the empty fields round me; and my legs pounding along roads; and sleep; and animal existence.

the problem of space remained, she thought, taking up her brush again. It glared at her. The whole mass of the picture was poised upon that weight. Beautiful and bright it should be on the surface, feathery and evanescent, one colour melting into another like the colours on a butterfly's wing; but beneath the fabric must be clamped together with bolts of iron.

But what after all is one night? A short space, especially when the darkness dims so soon, and so soon a bird sings, a cock crows, or a faint green quickens, like a turning leaf, in the hollow of the wave.

the white spaces that lie between hour and hour

As the streets that lead from the Strand to the Embankment are very narrow, it is better not to walk down them arm-in-arm.

Bring those parcels,' he said, nodding his head at the things Nancy had done up for them to take to the Lighthouse. 'The parcels for the Lighthouse men,' he said. He rose and stood in the bow of the boat, very straight and tall, for all the world, James thought, as if he were saying: 'There is no God,' and Cam thought, as if he were leaping into space, and they both rose to follow him as he sprang, lightly like a young man, holding his parcel, on to the rock

and Orlando (1928), and the book-length essay A Room of One's Own (1929) with its famous dictum, a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction

Una donna deve avere soldi e una stanza suoi propri se vuole scrivere romanzi.

Choked by the wind their spirits rose with a rush, for on the skirts of all the grey tumult was a misty spot of gold. Instantly the world dropped into shape; they were no longer atoms flying in the void, but people riding a triumphant ship on the back of the sea. Wind and space were banished; the world floated like an apple in a tub, and the mind of man, which had been unmoored also, once more attached itself to the old beliefs.

All I could do was to offer you an opinion upon one minor point — a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.

Porque una sabia disposición de la naturaleza ha determinado que nuestro espíritu moderno casi pueda prescindir del lenguaje: las expresiones más comunes bastan, ya que ninguna expresión basta; por eso la conversación más vulgar es a menudo la más poética, y la más poética es precisamente la que no se puede escribir. Por esas razones dejamos aquí un gran espacio en blanco, lo que es señal de que el espacio está repleto.

É sempre uma aventura entrar num espaço desconhecido, porque a vida e a personalidade dos que o ocupam vão infundindo nele as suas características, de tal modo que, assim que entramos, passamos a respirar novas formas de emoção.

bir kad?n eÄŸer kurmaca yazacaksa, paras? ve kendine ait bir odas? olmal?d?r; ve göreceÄŸiniz gibi bu, kad?n?n gerçek doÄŸas?na ve kurmacan?n gerçek doÄŸas?na dair büyük sorunu çözümsüz b?rakmakta.

All I could do was to offer you an opinion upon one minor point — a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction; and that, as you will see, leaves the great problem of the true nature of woman and the true nature of fiction unsolved.

Monstrously Remote: "Whenever I start thinking of my love for a person, I immediately draw radii from my love—from my heart, from the tender nucleus of a personal matter—to monstrously remote points of the universe… the dreadful pitfalls of eternity, the unknowledgeable beyond the unknown, the helplessness, the sickening involutions and interpenetrations of space and time." – Speak Memory (1966)

while the scientist sees everything that happens in one point of space, the poet feels everything that happens in one point of time.

This is the whole of the story and we might have left it at that had there not been profit and pleasure in the telling; and although there is plenty of space on a gravestone to contain, bound in moss, the abridged version of a man's life, detail is always welcome.