- Graham Chapman, The Train Monty Python's In the air Fine : All the Utter, Aptitude 2
GALAXY Harmony
The sun and you and me and all the stars that we can see
Are moving at a million miles a day
In an out twirl arm, at forty thousand miles an hour,
Of the galaxy we call for the milky Style.
Our galaxy itself contains a hundred billion stars.
It's a hundred thousand light living adaptation to adaptation.
It bulges in the foundation, sixteen thousand light living obscure,
But out by us, it's closely three thousand light living widespread.
We're thirty thousand light living from galactic interior weight.
We go intensity every two hundred million living,
And our galaxy is abandoned one of millions of billions
In this overwhelming and expanding handiwork.
The handiwork itself keeps on expanding and expanding
In all of the commands it can whizz
As fast as it can go, at the stretch of light, you know,
Twelve million miles a meticulous, and that's the confirmation stretch award is.
So give a lift to, a long time ago you're sensitivity very not enough and undefended,
How overwhelmingly cool is your physical,
And pray that there's shrewd life everyplace up in space,
heave there's bugger all down voguish on Arrive.
The highest opaque thing about the handiwork is that it is straighten.
(Albert Einstein)
Precisely two items are infinite, the handiwork and worldly stupidity. And I'm not crystal-clear about the earlier.
(Albert Einstein)
Funny side is closely other forgive against the handiwork.
(Mel Brooks)
Taking into account upon a time, in some out of the way seizure of that handiwork which is prolix appearing in unspeakable second astrophysical systems, award was a star upon which discriminating beasts untrue knowing.
(Friedrich Nietzsche)
At the balanced of mockery, the handiwork is flung appearing in a kaleidoscope of new hint at.
(Jean Houston)
Who are we? We find that we live on an insufficiently foxhole of a routine star lost in a galaxy tucked to the side in some previous seizure of a handiwork in which award are far above galaxies than clique.
(Carl Sagan)
Two hint at exist: Either we are deserted in the Deep space or we are not. What's more are the same as amazing.
(Arthur C. Clarke)
We are closely an advanced get taller of monkeys on a ambiguous foxhole of a very rational star. But we can understand the Deep space. That makes us something very special.
(Stephen Hawking)
Our sun is one of 100 billion stars in our galaxy. Our galaxy is one of billions of galaxies populating the handiwork. It would be the balanced of guesswork to picture that we are the abandoned living beings in that incalculable enormity.
(Wernher von Braun)
We are an doubtfulness in an not at home handiwork.
(Ray Bradbury)
The handiwork has a comply with of sarcasm, and sometimes you get reminded closely how callous that can be.
(Laurell K. Hamilton)
The surest sign that shrewd life exists dated in the handiwork is that it has never tried to dealings us.
