A few generations living and dying without a sky, and enclosed spaces lost the atavistic terror of premature burial.
So. Our little pearl of warmth, our spinning orrery of lives, our island, our beloved solar system, our hearth and home, tight and burnished in the warmth of the sun—and then—these starships we are ma...
I sailed upon oceans, and I thought no challenge could be greater, and now men sail the void between stars. Oh, how I remember them. The constellations burning so bright at night. How could I ever hav...
A journey inward may end in defeatFor life as we know it was made by machines
Across the sea of space, the stars are other suns.
A blade of grass is a commonplace on Earth; it would be a miracle on Mars. Our descendants on Mars will know the value of a patch of green. And if a blade of grass is priceless, what is the value of a...
He has a minor in explosives and the slightly bitter, misanthropic personality of someone who shouldn't.
We are the middle children of history. Born too late to explore earth, born too early to explore space.
NASA spent millions of dollars inventing the ball-point pen so they could write in space. The Russians took a pencil.