The planets touched. They coalesced, squishingly at first, the encircling warships drifting lightly away before a cosmically violent blast of superheated atmosphere. Jarnevon burst open, all the way around, and spattered; billions upon billions of tons of hot core-magma being hurled afar in gouts and streamers. The two planets, crashing through what had been a world, met, crunched, crushed together in all the unimaginable momentum of their masses and velocities. They subsided, crashingly. Not merely mountains, but entire halves of worlds disrupted and fell, in such Gargantuan paroxysms as the eye of man had never elsewhere beheld. And every motion generated heat. The kinetic energy of translation of two worlds became heat. Heat added to heat, piling up ragingly, frantically, unable to escape!
“It’s hot,’ he said, dropping on the bench beside her.
‘It’s July, Mulder,’ Garson reminded him. ‘It’s New Mexico. What did you expect?’
'Heat I can get at home. An oven I already have in my apartment.”
Once a man gets a reputation as a liar, he might as well be struck dumb, for people do not listen to the wind.
High above the place where most of the Sun’s energy production leaked out into space as light, an observer could make out details for tens of thousands of miles. Even so it was still hard to get used to the idea that the magnetic arch he now looked at was about the size of Norway. It was merely one filigree in a chain that arched for 200,000 kilometers over a sunspot group below.
And this one was a wimp, compared to many they’d seen.
You do not beg the sun for mercy.
The Earth is just too small and fragile a basket for the human race to keep all its eggs in.
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 have known? God’s creation has a majesty which lays men bare at his feet.
I thought that they were angels but to my surprise
They climbed aboard their starship and headed for the skies
Singing, come sail away come sail away
Come sail away with me
Come sail away come sail away
Come sail away with me
This is Zapp Brannigan of the good ship… Planet Express Ship. I come swinging the olive branch of peace.
Violence, naked force, has settled more issues in history than has any other factor.
Was I detecting signal flares launched above a vast battlefield? Or was it the wreckage of war–the broken remnants of armies cleaved apart?
I would be delighted to offer any advice I can on understanding women. When I have some, I’ll let you know.
Earthmen will fall to their knees, betray their country and give away valuable real estate for a desirable woman.
“Ambassador, if Elasian women are that vicious, why are men so overwhelmingly attracted to them? I mean, what magic do they possess?”
“It’s not magic, it’s biochemical. A man whose flesh is once touched by the tears of a woman of Elas has his heart enslaved forever.”
When the chemistry is right, all the experiments work.
No. No. Be of good cheer. If science teaches us anything, it teaches us to accept our failures, as well as our successes, with quiet dignity and grace.
Faith and science, I have learned, are two sides of the same coin, separated by an expanse so small, but wide enough that one side can’t see the other. They don’t know they are connected.
Well, the holographic principle suggests that what we all experience every day in three dimensions may really just be information on a surface located at the farthest reaches of our cosmos. So it’s possible that our lives are really just acting out a painting on the largest canvas in the universe.
After all, is it not the way we humans shape the universe, shape time itself? Do we not take the raw stuff of chaos and impose a beginning, middle, and end on it, like the simplest and most profound of folktales, to reflect the shapes of our own tiny lives? And if the physicists are right, that the physical world changes as it is observed, and we are its only known observers, then might we not be bending the entire chaotic universe, the eternal, ever-active Now, to fit that familiar form?
“Do you speak English?” "Certainly. And I understand American.”