We want to explore. We’re curious people. Look back over history, people have put their lives at stake to go out and explore... We believe in what we’re doing. Now it’s time to go.
Buy why, some say, the moon? Why choose this as our goal? And they may as well ask why climb the highest mountain?
It all began, old Ammi said, with the meteorite. Before that time there had been no wild legends at all since the witch trials, and even then these western woods were not feared half so much as the small island in the Miskatonic.
He could not but wonder at his gleaning of the same impression from a vapour glimpsed in the daytime, against a window opening on the morning sky, and from a nocturnal exhalation seen as a phosphorescent mist against the black and blasted landscape.
These were not haunted woods, and their fantastic dusk was never terrible till the strange days. Then there had come that white noontide cloud, that string of explosions in the air, and that pillar of smoke from the valley far in the wood.
It wasn't right—it was against Nature—and he thought of those terrible last words of his stricken friend, "It come from some place whar things ain't as they is here... one o' them professors said so...""The Colour out of Space" by H. P. Lovecraft.
Fox nymphs grab quick-jived waltz.
How quickly daft jumping zebras vex.
Where ignorance lurks, so too do the frontiers of discovery and imagination.
Woven silk pyjamas exchanged for blue quartz.
Bawds jog, flick quartz, vex nymphs.
Curious that we spend more time congratulating people who have succeeded than encouraging people who have not.