Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Horizons. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Horizons Quotes And Sayings by 93 Authors including Joseph B. Wirthlin,Kevin J. Anderson,Maya Angelou,Dorothy Dunnett,Mason Cooley for you to enjoy and share.
Our computers have become windows through which we can gaze upon a world that is virtually without horizons or boundaries.
The future was glorious once. It was filled with sleek silver spaceships, lunar colonies, and galactic empires. The horizon seemed within reach; we could almost grasp the stars if we would but try.
The horizon leans forward, offering you space to place new steps of change.
We have reached the open sea, with some charts; and the firmament.
The horizon is more than a convention of landscape painting, less than truth.
Beyond the edge of the world there's a space where emptiness and substance neatly overlap, where past and future form a continuous, endless loop. And, hovering about, there are signs no one has ever read, chords no one has ever heard.
From the radiating point of Siwenna, the forces of the Empire reached out cautiously into the black unknown of the Periphery. Giant ships passed the vast distances that separated the vagrant stars at the Galaxy's rim, and felt their way around the outermost edge of Foundation influence.
The horizon curved upward to both sides. Not good, not right. Horizons do not curve up.
Across galaxies of time and space
Travelling just to see your face
Lost amidst the countless stars
To bring me back to where you are.
Fight gravity and fly away. Reach new horizons and expand yourself
The horizon has been defeated by the pirates of the new age.
Between two worlds life hovers like a star, twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge.
Outer Planets Alliance
We are living through a remarkably privileged era, when certain deep truths about the cosmos are still within reach of the human spirit of exploration.
An infinite, inscrutable blackness has annihilated sight! Where is our universe? All crumbled away from us; and we, adrift in chaos, may hearken to the gusts of homeless wind, that go sighing and murmuring about in quest of what was once a world!
There are frontiers to the mind which, once crossed, afford no return.
Let this book take you to the stars and beyond.
The horizon is an imaginary line that recedes as you approach it.
On this narrow planet, we have only the choice between two unknown worlds. One of them tempts us - ah! what a dream, to live in that! - the other stifles us at the first breath.
The history of astronomy is a history of receding horizons.
One can only hope that our horizons widen as we grow taller.
From horizon to horizon the sky was filled with stars to within a few degrees of a fresh sliver of moon, a tiny thing lost in the yawn of night.
My horizon's have shrunk and I have only endings to write.
The horizon of many people is a circle with a radius of zero. They call this their point of view.
I saw a man pursuing the horizon
Whatever torch we kindle, and whatever space it may illuminate, our horizon will always remain encircled by the depth of night.
Eyes closed on an open soul...the world starts from within its core towards its final frontier: the end surface.
Punctilious abyss, the yawn of space
Come once a day to suffocate the sight.
The universe lies before you on the floor, in the air, in the mysterious bodies of your dancers, in your mind. From this voyage no one returns poor or weary.
Beyond the realms of what we see, into the regions or the unexplored limited only by our imaginations.
And they disappear over that flat blue horizon and onto another.
Forever chasing stars
If New Horizons is, like Kaylee said, the tool God gave me to create a better life, I'm pretty sure I'm using it wrong.
Passing swiftly on toward further darknesses, but moving also toward a new sun.
Anything past the horizon is invisible, it can only be imagined. You want to see the future but you only see the sky.
Your mind, this globe of awareness, is a starry universe. When you push off with your foot, a thousand new roads become clear.
When you grow up by the sea, you spend a good deal of time looking at the horizon. You wonder what on Earth the waves might bring - and where the sea might deposit you - until one day you know you have lived between two places, the scene of arrival and the point of departure.
Name the horizon, and it's ours."
By the time the auditorium doors opened, they were gone
Keep taking new paths to expand your horizon.
Pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light.
The stars are pretty but the space between them is infinite and black with promise.
Moving islands in the ocean of sky.
Beautiful white curtains in the sky,
Veiling and unveiling portions, as time passes by.
I watch clouds, when my mind feels clouded.
What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? - it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.
Maybe it's a little early. Maybe the time is not quite yet. But those other worlds - promising untold opportunities - beckon. Silently, they orbit the Sun, waiting.
Far away, to an infinite world I escape. I'm clear and calm, I'm unafraid. Sunless days, in my sheltered milkyway. In Saturn's rings I feel no pain.
From this arid sphere every discourse and every poem sets forth; and every journey
through forests, battles, treasures, banquets, bedchambers, brings us back here, to the center
of an empty horizon.
We head for the horizon, on the plane of immanence, and we return with bloodshot eyes, yet they are the eyes of the mind.
We see an entire planet which has many limitations.
Over all the sky - the sky! Far, far out of reach, studded with eternal stars.
Involved in my own entrails and a crust Turning a pitted surface towards a space, I am a world that watches through a sky And is persuaded by mirrors To regard its being as an external shell, One of a universe of stars and faces.
When horizons grow or diminish within a person the distances are not measurable by other people.
It is the eye which makes the horizon.
Menacing lines of black tomorrows on the horizon.
You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You've just crossed over into ... the Twilight Zone.
In that instant when I had seen ... the Star Maker, I had glimpsed, in the very eye of that splendor, strange vistas of being; as though in the depths of the hypercosmical past and the hypercosmical future also, yet coexistent in eternity, lay cosmos beyond cosmos ...
I stand up. Stretch my arms out wide to the
empty horizon. Do not be afraid of limitless
possibilities. The desert is infinite to the eye
as love is to the heart.
You and those shot-glass eyes, deep swirling pools of 80-proof firewater, with the depth and profundity of Saturn's spinning pulsars ...
Lord of the far horizons, Give us the eyes to see Over the verge of the sundown The beauty that is to be.
The world rolls under the long thrust of his heel. Over the cage floor the horizons come.
I've always felt compelled to explore range, because, as far as I know, we're only here once. So let's see how much we can encompass.
The highway of human possibility extends on forever into unknown territories, which have not yet been imagined.
We're now getting the first glimpses of the vastness of inner space. This internal, hidden, intimate cosmos commands its own goals, imperatives, and logic.
an expressive phrase coined by a Princeton mathematician of the last century: "Wormholes in space.
The world of wonders!
We have at last glimpsed the surface of the fabled world, Titan, Saturn's largest moon and the greatest single expanse of unexplored territory remaining in the Solar System today,
Beyond the window was the parking lot and beyond that the desert, and beyond that the sky, mostly void, partially stars. Layered
Beyond is all abyss, eternity, whose end no eye can reach.
Go beyond the sky!
Overhead, the stars were wheeling and infinite, a complicated mobile made by giants. They pulled me amongst them, into space and memories.
Limitations gone: Since my mind fixed on the moon, Clarity and serenity Make something for which There's no end in sight.
Niima: center of the galaxy, repository of manifold cultures, offering to its myriad inhabitants a never-ending succession of entertainment, education, and enjoyable distractions. Her
Telescopes and bathyscapes and sonar probes of Scottish lakes, Tacoma Narrows bridge collapse explained with abstract phase-space maps, some x-ray slides, a music score, Minard's Napoleonic war: the most exciting new frontier is charting what's already here.
When you go to the park, there is no horizon - just Disneyland.
The deep spaces between stars , Fathomless as the cold shadow His mind cast.
The Cosmos is all that is or was or ever will be. Our feeblest contemplations of the Cosmos stir us
there is a tingling in the spine, a catch in the voice, a faint sensation, as if a distant memory, of falling from a height. We know we are approaching the greatest of mysteries.
Herschel removed the speckled tent-roof from the world and exposed the immeasurable deeps of space, dim-flecked with fleets of colossal suns sailing their billion-leagued remoteness.
Desperately knocking against the blind little world, i loosened one of its planks, opening a window to a new, wider world. There, spread out, was a profusion of geography, of atmosphere, of full empty air.
The heavens are too immense, too beautiful and varied, to fit into the mind of any one deity; the murmured creeds of fathers and sons are no match for the astronomer's gasp.
When the sun sets, beautiful though it may be, billions of stars appear. The ego is but one sun. When that sun sets, there are endless suns, endless horizons beyond it.
Worthy would-be worlds of words, whorls of working wonder.
There is commonly sufficient space about us. Our horizon is never quite at our elbows.
There are horizons through the brickwork, you wait and see.
We may climb into the thin and cold realm of pure geometry and lifeless science, or sink into that of sensation. Between these extremes is the equator of life, of thought, or spirit, or poetry,
a narrow belt.
Stories, A Portal to Anywhere but Here.
This is no ordinary gallery; a stellar infinity impeccably well-organized to harbor spontaneity.
The planet Mars
crimson and bright, filling our telescopes with vague intimations of almost-familiar landforms
has long formed a celestial tabula rasa on which we have inscribed our planeto-logical theories, utopian fantasies, and fears of alien invasion or ecological ruin.
Dragons. A sky full of dragons.
We regarded each other across an expanse wider than the universe, within a space thinner than a razor's edge.
Wide, wide world, but as narrow as the coins in your hand.
For a moment of night we have a glimpse of ourselves and of our world islanded in a stream of stars - pilgrims of mortality, voyaging between horizons across the eternal seas of space and time
I had found the edge. The place where you unstrap all your fastenings to the earth, to what you are what you have been, where you flame out on the edge of the spheres, and the sun and moon become eclipsed and the world below is as dead and remote and without interest as if it were glazed with ice.
The essence of travel is diffuse. It is never there on the spot as it were, but always beyond: its symbol is the horizon, and its interest always lies over that edge in the unseen.
What's the name for the space between stars?"
"No such name."
"Make one up."
I thought about it. "The soul asylum."
"That's another way of saying heaven, Agnes.
Rather than words comes the thought of high windows:
The sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.
'Interstellar' may never equal the blast of scientific speculation and cinematic revelation that was Stanley Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey,' but its un-Earthly vistas are spectral and spectacular.
This time of night, the sky was flung wide open, stars spread like a story across the horizon.
Without a transcendent horizon, society cannot endure.
They say the sky is the same everywhere. Travellers, the shipwrecked, exiles, and the dying draw comfort from the thought[.]
Vision encompasses vast vistas outside the realm of the predictable, the safe, the expected.
There are high places that don't invite us, sharp shapes, glacier-scraped faces, whole ranges whose given names slip off. Any such relation as we try to make refuses to take ... I'm giddy with thinking where thinking can't stick.
No Names