A Quote by Eric Hoffer
Our passionate preoccupation with the sky, the stars, and a God somewhere in outer space is a homing impulse. We are drawn back to where we came from.
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I actually believe more in outer space in Virginia, because I can look up at the sky and count the stars.
Prayer is preoccupation with our needs. Praise is preoccupation with our blessings. Worship is preoccupation with GOD Himself.
All this knowledge of the objective world is of no value in comparison to having a little glimpse of the inner sky and its beauty - its sunrises and sunsets, its days and nights, its blue sky and its stars. The outer then looks only a pale reflection of the inner. The inner becomes more real and the outer becomes just a shadow.
There was a sky somewhere above the tops of the buildings, with stars and a moon and all the things there are in a sky, but they were content to think of the distant street lights as planets and stars. If the lights prevented you from seeing the heavens, then preform a little magic and change reality to fit the need. The street lights were now planets and stars and moon.
The most courageous, and pious act of a human is to be with another human, because we are like stars in the sky, born at one time and space, to be ourselves. Everybody is our neighbor. All we have to do is say, "I am with you." When you start being one with everybody, then you are actually with God, because if you cannot see God in all, you cannot see God at all.
Look at the sky. Does its sapphire hue dim when you take a single breath? Are the stars drawn closer when you weep? The sky cannot be diminished so. Thus it is with the spirit: it is a thing without beginning or end.
The sound of the freezing of snow over the land seemed to roar deep into the earth. There was no moon. The stars, almost too many of them to be true, came forward so brightly that it was as if they were falling with the swiftness of the void. As the stars came nearer, the sky retreated deeper and deeper into the night color. The layers of the Border Range, indistinguishable one from another, cast their heaviness at the skirt of the starry sky in a blackness grave and somber enough to communicate their mass. The whole of the night scene came together in a clear, tranquil harmony.
If I got the option of going into outer space and hanging out there for a day and then coming back home and dying the next day, or just waiting around to see if there's any opportunity for the technology to develop so that I might experience outer space sometime in the future, I would probably take the ride today and die tomorrow.
Lying on the roof counting the stars that fill the sky
I wonder if
Someone in the heavens looking back down on me
I'll never know
So much space to believe
After my death, the molecules of my being will return to the earth and sky. They came from the stars. I am of the stars.
After my death, the molecules of my being will return to the earth and the sky. They came from the stars. I am of the stars.
Dominating all earth from outer space will have an out-of-this-world price tag, perhaps more than $1 trillion. A question: Why reach for the stars with guns in our hands? Are there weapons of mass destruction on Mars?
The impulse to pursue God originates with God, but the outworking of that impulse is our following hard after Him.
I will beg, will take to my knees, will listen to snow
stroking air, a sky of gasps, will open my mouth,
swallow, somewhere else the sky is falling,
somewhere else it gets back up.
I think there's a very fundamental urge to create a safe space, a home; most animals have that impulse, and humans certainly do - with some exceptions, like nomadic people who perhaps don't feel the need to settle in quite that way. But most of us do want to have space, somewhere we feel secure and where we repeatedly return. Somewhere we can sleep without fear. And there's nothing wrong with that desire. It's completely understandable. It only becomes ugly when that creation of a safe space involves making an enclosure from which other people are kept out.
I eased back on my elbows, tilting my head back to look up at the sky, which was pinkish, streaked with red. This was the time we knew best, that stretch of day going from dusk to dark. It seemed like we were always waiting for nighttime here. I could feel the trampoline easing up and down, moved by our own breathing, bringing us in small increments up and back from the sky as the colors faded, slowly, and the stars began to show themselves.
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