I am living on the moon, I told myself, I have a little house all by myself on the moon.

I am a passenger on the spaceship Earth.

One planet, one experiment.

We are going to the moon that is not very far. Man has so much farther to go within himself.

I have, as it were, my own sun and moon and stars, and a little world all to myself.

Space Rockets as Power Symbols

The moon rocket is the climactic expression of the power system: the maximum utilization of the resources of science and technics for the achievement of a relatively miniscule result: the hasty exploration of a barren satellite. Space exploration by manned rockets enlarges and intensifies all the main components of the power system: increased energy, accelerated motion, automation, cyber-nation, instant communication, remote control. Though it has been promoted mainly under military pressure, the most vital result of moon visitation so far turns out to be an unsought and unplanned one-a full view of the beautiful planet we live on, an inviting home for man and for all forms of life. This distant view on television evoked for the first time an active, loving response from many people who had hitherto supposed that modern technics would soon replace Mother Earth with a more perfect, scientifically organized, electronically controlled habitat, and who took for granted that this would be an improvement. Note that the moon rocket is itself necessarily a megastructure: so it naturally calls forth such vulgar imitations as the accompanying bureaucratic obelisk (office building) of similar dimensions, shown here (left). Both forms exhibit the essentially archaic and regressive nature of the science-fiction mind.

as round as the moon.

I don't know if there are men on the moon, but if there are they must be using the earth as their lunatic asylum

If the moon, in the act of completing its eternal way around the earth, were gifted with self-consciousness, it would feel thoroughly convinced that it was traveling its way of its own accord. . . . So would a Being, endowed with higher insight and more perfect intelligence, watching man and his doings, smile about man’s illusion that he was acting according to his own free will.

Also the moon and I have this in common: we both are wanderers across the night.

Maybe the moon is beautiful only because it is far.

There are no passengers on spaceship earth. We are all crew.

Love is a private thing; the world does not need to know every detail.

The moon in her chariot of pearl