Best 67 quotes in «galaxy quotes» category

Inside my head / or in a distant / Galaxy / Soft I hear it / Calling me." from the song "In the Blackness" in the poetry collection "Terra Affirmative".

It was ridiculous. But so was much of the galaxy.

i will forever be colliding with a billion unnamed undiscovered stars, each of us on our own orbital paths.

MUSIC OF THE UNIVERSE Without the orchestra of the universe, There would be no ether. And without its instrumentation By the ether, There would be no waves. And without any waves, There would be no sound. And without sound, There would be no music. And without music, There would be no life. And without a life force, There would be no matter. But it does not matter - Because what is matter, If there is no light?

Living in a galaxy is like living in a neighborhood where the house down the street might have burned down four thousand years ago but you wouldn't know it for another three thousand years.

Sometimes the meaning beyond the talisman is greater than the talisman itself. A star has a hint of galaxies.

The dancing Sun the dancing moon the dancing stars and the dancing galaxies are the direct expression of our divine Self.

The dark sky. A hundred million stars. More stars than I’ve ever seen before. My eyes let me see farther, but they don’t show me the one thing I want to see. I would trade all the stars in the universe if I could just have him back again. Wind whistles through the trees nearby. Birdsong weaves in and out of the sound. The hybrids emerge from the communication building, heads tilted to the sky. And then we see the end. Godspeed’s engine was nuclear; who knows what fueled the biological weapons. But they explode together. In space, they don’t make the familiar mushroom cloud. They don’t make the boom! of an exploding bomb. There is, against the dark sky, a brief flash of light. It is filled with colors, like a nebula or the aurora borealis, bursting like a popped bubble. Nothing else—no sound of an explosion, no tremors in the earth, no smell of smoke. Not here, on the surface of the planet. Nothing else to signify Elder’s death. Just light. And then it’s gone. And then he’s gone.

The different religions confused me. Which was the right one? I tried to figure it out but had no success. It worried me. The different Gods - Catholic, Jewish, Protestant, Mohammedan - seemed very particular in the way in which they expected me to keep on good terms with them. I couldn't please one without offending the others. One kind soul solved my problem by taking me on my first trip to the planetarium. I contemplated the insignificant flyspeck called Earth, the millions of suns and solar systems, and concluded that whoever was in charge of all this would not throw a fit if I ate ham, or meat on Friday, or did not fast in the daytime during Ramadan. I felt much better after this and was, for a while, keenly interested in astronomy.

It's quite conceivable that [life] will eventually spread through the galaxy and beyond. So life may not forever be an unimportant trace contaminant of the universe, even though it now is. In fact, I find it a rather appealing view.

Next morning, Emma had more of unusual impressions, from the nightdream she saw before the moment she woke up: The girl flew inside some darkness, feeling really tired; soon, she decided to have a nap laying onto… some Galaxy! She was herself as big as the Universe… Or was it she the part of that macrocosm? Then, Emma jumped down from the space, landing in… her bedroom where she used to fall asleep… and there she noticed her cousin Billy who was entering the room, accidentally touching Clifford’s brown scarf that hung on the moose antlers (which really were there, nailed to the wall and serving as hangers)… The scarves fall down… and she wakes up. Emily closed her eyes again, scrolling her memories about how it felt—to rest on the top of the Galaxy. “Who are we people, in all that global greatness of the space? …Considering things in the ecumenical measure, we are the microbes of the Universe,” the girl discoursed her thoughts.

Next morning, Emma had more of unusual impressions, from the nightdream she saw before the moment she woke up: The girl flew inside some darkness, feeling really tired; soon, she decided to have a nap laying onto… some Galaxy! She was herself as big as the Universe… Or was it she the part of that macrocosm?

Oci su kao galaksije. Nedostizne, neobjasnjive. Toliko prostrane, toliko tajnovite.

Quantum theory tells us, Mr. Thomas, that every point in the universe is intimately connected to every other point, regardless of apparent distance. In some mysterious way, any point on a planet in a distant galaxy is as close to me as you are.

Sometimes it seemed that one of the stars came loose from the firmament and sailed off with dizzying speed to a far corner of the night. In the dark hours before sunrise, constellations came apart and reformed and fell in burning streaks.

That—this—is Orion’s secret. It’s not that the ship isn’t working, that we’re never going to make it. It’s that the ship has already arrived. We’re already here! There—there—is the planet that will be our home! It floats, so bright that it hurts my eyes. Giant green landmasses spread out across blue water, with swirls and wisps of clouds twirling over top. At the edge of the planet, where it turns away from the suns and starts to darken, I can see bright flashes of light—bursts of whiteness in the darkness—and I think: Is that lightning? In the center, where the light of the suns makes the planet seem to glow from within, I can see, very distinctly, a continent. A continent. On one edge, it’s cracked and broken like an egg, dark lines snaking deep into the landmass. Rivers. Lots of them. Maybe something too big to be rivers if I can see it from here. Fingers of land stretch out into the sea, and dots of islands are just out of their grasp. That area will be cool all the time, I think. Boats can go along the rivers, up and down. We can swim in the water. Because already, I can see myself living there. Being there. On a planet that looks up at a million suns every night, and at two every day. I want to scream, shout with joy. But the air is so thin now. Too thin. I’ve spent too long looking at Orion’s secret. The boop . . . boop . . . boop . . . fades away. There’s nothing to warn about now. Because there’s no air left. My sight is rimmed with black. My head pulses with my heartbeat, which sounds as loud to me as the alarm once did. I turn from the planet—my planet—and start pulling, hand over hand, against the tether, toward the hatch. The ship bobs in and out of my vision as my whole body jerks. I’m panicked now and fighting to stay awake. I try to suck in air, but there’s nothing there to suck. I’m drowning in nothing.

The life of a star is surrounded by the qualities of a Galaxy;I am that Galaxy.

The sky is but a looking glass into a pool of airless oceans, cast off into a dance of light and energy, leaving only a facet of guidance to navigate. Such an existence lays but within the mind man.

The Poem About Taking out the Trash In the vast emptiness of darkness, Stars are being born and are burning out; Galaxies expand, into what I have no idea, And dark matter fills the infinite space That has no bounds and no limits. In the middle of all this, I stand In a single moment and know how small I am. A group of atoms, the size of nothing in comparison. I am the observer of the play on a tiny stage. The onlooker who watches the painting Of a picture that few stop to see. The listener of a song where I hear only a fraction Of a fraction of a note in a song that will be forever sung And that has been being sung for eternity upon eternity, Before I knew breath and sound. I am but dust, stardust, a breath of a life, smoke Rising into oblivion, here then gone as quickly. Under all of this, I take out the trash.

The way you blunder from one catastrophe to the next, it's a wonder the whole galaxy doesn't hate you. The galaxy is a big place, General. You provincial military types don't get far enough out to really see that. -General Tagon & Captain Kevyn Andreyasn

The world is young, the sky is old, the cosmos are ancient, but the universe timeless.

The world has a beginning, but the universe has no end.

They moved silently in each other's orbits, solitary planets in a lonely galaxy.

Waking up in the same place in which you dozed off has never happened either to you or to anyone else. Ever. Earth does not stop moving when you sleep. Every hour that passes, Earth travels a little more than 800,000 kilometres around the centre of our galaxy. And so do you. That's the equivalent of about twenty trips around the planet. Every hour. No one minds, though, as long as their bed stays still beneath their body.

Your dreams come crushing down when you tow the wrong path by looking at what others are doing. The Milky Way Galaxy would have been crushed down by now if each planet had left its own orbit to revolve elsewhere!

your hand touching mine. this is how galaxies collide.

Where in the world would a star be without the love of the sky?

Everything dies, from the smallest blade of grass to the biggest galaxy.

God loves us for ourselves. He values our love more than he values galaxies of new created worlds.

David Beckham is not bigger than the Galaxy.

He didn't know why he had become president of the galaxy, except that it seemed a fun thing to be.

Arcturus is the highest civilization in our galaxy.

How can you look at the galaxy and not feel insignificant?

I didn’t write 'Guardians of the Galaxy.' I’m not even sure who they all are. I can’t wait to see the movie.

The people I still talk to are some of the old Galaxy players all over the place. That's a bond that's pretty special.

Our galaxy is 10 billion years old. The Earth is only 4.5 billion years old. We are a firefly flicker in the great astrobiology of the galaxy.

I would say keep supporting space flight, keep telling the public and the politicians why it's important to advance science and explore the galaxy. I encourage the Japanese to keep doing what they're doing.

The priceless galaxy of misinformation called the mind.

We search for life on others planets and in other regions of our galaxy. Meanwhile we destroy and ignore the other life on this planet.

The very concept of solid ground is a myth. The galaxy itself is adrift.

We seem to be young, in a very old Galaxy. We're like kids tiptoeing through a ruined mansion.

Where nature goes to create stars, galaxies, quarks and leptons, you and I also go to create ourselves.

We're all worth it, man. We're all worth millions of planets and stars and galaxies and universes.

According to Thoth, because of the placement of the Great Pyramid on the Earth connecting into the Earth's huge geometrical field - specifically the octahedral field of the Earth, which is equivalent to our own fields - and because of the pyramid's mass and the geometries used in it, the white-light energy field spirals upward and becomes extremely strong, stretching all the way out to the center of the galaxy. The dark-light energy comes in from above, spirals through zero point and connects with the center of the Earth. In this way the Great Pyramid connects the center of the Earth to the center of our galaxy.

We spend our lives on a thin slice between the unimaginably small scales of the atoms that compose us and the infinitely large scales of galaxies.

You see, this universe we inhabit is made up of billions of galaxies literally beyond counting and this is only one universe.

all hopes there, so close to each other, are pulled into the void every night; when a band of pale twinkles milking the way across the divine breadth of sky where every heart belongs. - From the poem "The Universe In Blossom

A silent velvet footstep filled me, unwelcome yet so needed. You finally found my hidden shore with grains of time and ocean of the most secret secrets, violet and red; left a trail of deep blue footsteps on my glowing beach of soul, and no matter how many times tides wash the golden sand anew, your prints can never be erased. Each one a shining star in my quiet Universe...

As I lay there, listening to the soft slap of the sea, and thinking these sad and strange thoughts, more and more and more stars had gathered, obliterating the separateness of the Milky Way and filling up the whole sky. And far far away in that ocean of gold, stars were silently shooting and falling and finding their fates, among these billions and billions of merging golden lights. And curtain after curtain of gauze was quietly removed, and I saw stars behind stars behind stars, as in the magical Odeons of my youth. And I saw into the vast soft interior of the universe which was slowly and gently turning itself inside out. I went to sleep, and in my sleep I seemed to hear a sound of singing.

A single poem, alone can turn tides scatter galaxies and burst forth with rivers from paradise.