“Ever since I was a little boy, I dreamed I would do something important in aviation.”

In much of society, research means to investigate something you do not know or understand.

A picture does a great job, but it’s not nearly like being there.

This blowing dust became increasingly thicker. It was very much like landing in a fast moving ground fog.

I only go in a small fraction of an inch, maybe an eighth of an inch, but I can see the footprints of my boots and the treads in the fine sandy particles.

You’ve got to expect things are going to go wrong. And we always need to prepare ourselves for handling the unexpected.

The regret on our side is, they used to say years ago, we are reading about you in science class. Now they say, we are reading about you in history class.

It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn’t feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.

Geologists have a saying – rocks remember.

Space has not changed but technology has, in many cases, improved dramatically.

It’s a great thing for a man to walk on the moon. But it’s a greater thing for God to walk on the earth.

I tell you, we’re going to be busy for a minute.

Pilots take no special joy in walking: pilots like flying.

History will remember the twentieth century for two technological developments: atomic energy and space flight.

The importance of the new plant of progress and in the fruits it will bear.

The view of the moon that we’ve been having recently is really spectacular.

It’s a brilliant surface in that sunlight. The horizon seems quite close to you because the curvature is so much more pronounced than here on earth. It’s an interesting place to be. I recommend it.

The frailty of everything revealed at last. Old and troubling issues resolved into nothingness and night. The last instance of a thing takes the class with it. Turns out the light and is gone. Look around you. Ever is a long time. But the boy knew what he knew. That ever is no time at all.

Men wear hearts on the sleeves that boys wipe their noses on.

I was never much of a reader when I was a boy. Books bored me. I liked action. But I spent a lot of time thinking about things. I’d imagine all kinds of situations and how I would handle them.

I am a bad boy. I don’t come across clearly to a lot of people, so I am bad for them.

A crowned queen was never treated with more reverence than I was by those whole-souled western boys, And for seventeen long years I was just their little sister, sharing both their news of joy and sorrow from home.

Boys are quite often whimsical. Whereas girls are modest by nature and know their responsibilities very well. Their weapons are service, sacrifice, and love, by which they conquer over the males.

Boy, those French: they have a different word for everything!

When I was a boy, the Sioux owned the world. The sun rose and set on their land; they sent ten thousand men to battle. Where are the warriors today? Who slew them? Where are our lands? Who owns them?