When the storm is over and night falls and the moon is out in all its glory and all you're left with is the rhythm of the sea, of the waves, you know what God intended for the human race, you know what paradise is.
HAROLD PINTER, Party Time
- The moonlight builds its cold chapel
- again out of piecemeal darkness.
JANE HIRSHFIELD, "Chapel"
- The sun goes down, and with him takes
- The coarseness of my poor attire;
- The fair moon mounts, and aye the flame
- Of Gypsy beauty blazes higher.
RALPH WALDO EMERSON, The Romany Girl
Although the semicircle of the Moon is placed above the circle of the Sun and would appear to be superior, nevertheless we know that the Sun is ruler and King. We see that the Moon in her shape and her proximity rivals the Sun with her grandeur, which is apparent to ordinary men, yet the face, or a semi-sphere of the Moon, always reflects the light of the Sun.
JOHN DEE, Monas Hieroglyphica
The moon is fat and the night air is so pure it seems edible.
- Thy peerless glory, gentle orb! I sing,
- Enamoured of thy beam's enchanting light,
- Which, like a silver veil, adorns the dark
- And melancholy brow of ebon night,
- And gives her sable hue coquettish charm.
- Celestial wand'rer! Mild magnificence!
- Earth's fair twin sister swathed with infant bands!
- Shed thy dumb eloquence upon my soul,
- And kindle its dim torch with light of song!
C. B. LANGSTON, "To the Moon"
The moon, which was in her last quarter and was inclining all to one side, seemed fainting in the midst of space, so weak that she was unable to wane, forced to stay up yonder, seized and paralyzed by the severity of the weather. She shed a cold, mournful light over the world, that dying and wan light which she gives us every month, at the end of her period.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT, "Love: Three Pages from a Sportsman's Book"
- The moon has but one side of light and beauty,
- The other, steeped in never-ending night,
- Seems worse than dead, as in the harmony
- Of spheres, she cannot even echo. And
- She died they say, for love of her great brother,
- The glorious Sun, whom she may never reach,
- Condemned to be apart, for that great sin
- Of love.
CARMEN SYLVA, "In the Dark"
- The myriads of mankind depart--they die,
- They leave no vestige that they once have been,
- But thou remain'st forever in the sky,
- Renewing thy existence--night's fair queen!
DUGALD MOORE, "To the Moon"
- The moon ... was now emerging from the heavy clouds,
- And looking through their shatter'd folds, like hope,
- Upon the ills and sorrows of mankind.
DUGALD MOORE, "To the Moon"
The moon, our own, earthly moon is bitterly lonely, because it is alone in the sky, always alone, and there is no one to turn to, no one to turn to it. All it can do is ache across the weightless airy ice, across thousands of versts, toward those who are equally lonely on earth, and listen to the endless howling of dogs.
YEVGENY ZAMYATIN, "A Story About the Most Important Thing", The Dragon
- The moon ... is a mad woman holding up her dress
- So that her white belly shines.
- Silent and white as a debauched queen.
EVELYN SCOTT, "Autumn Night"
The moon climbed out of the ravine, blue, skinny, as if it had been fed on nothing but skimmed milk. It climbed out, and quickly slithered up and up along the finest thread--away from trouble, and on the very top it huddled, crouching on thin legs.
YEVGENY ZAMYATIN, "The Protectress of Sinners", The Dragon: Fifteen Stories
In the flood of her joy, the Moon filled the room like a phosphoric atmosphere, like a luminous poison.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE, "The Favours of the Moon"
- I loved thee, gentle moon! thou wert to me
- Brother and sister and companion--all
- My kin, while standing on the silent lea
- I watch'd thy glory in the starry hall;
- And thy white beams like shower of diamonds fall
- Upon the azure desert; lovely light,
- Sure thou wert fashion'd, when Sin's fatal pall
- Was flung o'er earth, to welcome her flight
- The lone and weary soul that journeys through the night.
DUGALD MOORE, "To the Moon"
The chimneys, rank on rank, cut the clear sky; the moon, with a rag of gauze about her loins, poses among them, an awkward Venus.
RICHARD ALDINGTON, "Evening"
- The moon is no door. It is a face in its own right,
- White as a knuckle and terribly upset.
- It drags the sea after it like a dark crime; it is quiet
- With the O-gape of complete despair.
SYLVIA PLATH, "The Moon and the Yew Tree," Ariel
- The moon like a flower
- In heaven's high bower,
- With silent delight,
- Sits and smiles on the night.
Up from the dark the moon begins to creep; and now a pallid, haggard face lifts she above the water-line: thus from the deep a drowned body rises solemnly.
THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH, "Moonrise at Sea"
- Up the sky in silence holy
- Comes the young moon slowly, slowly,
- Softly with her light divine,
- Filling, like a cup with wine.
ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN, "Karl"
At night, the moon, a pregnant woman, walks cautiously over the slippery heavens.
RICHARD ALDINGTON, "London"
Throughout history we've dreamed of the moon, and wondered if people would ever go there. The magnificence of our achievement for humanity was that we were there. But when I looked around I saw the most desolate sight imaginable. No oxygen, no life, just the lunar surface that hasn't changed for thousands of years--and the blackness of the sky. It was the most desolate thing I could ever think of. And that's why I said those words: the magnificence of the achievement and the desolation of where we were.
BUZZ ALDRIN, "Buzz Aldrin Hates Being Called the Second Man on the Moon", National Geographic, April 18, 2016
The moon hangs alien, heavy, like a lock on a door; the door is tightly shut.
YEVGENY ZAMYATIN, "The North", The Dragon: Fifteen Stories
I am prone before you.
And drench me in loneliness.
AMY LOWELL, "On a Certain Critic"
The moon likes secrets ... and secret things. She lets mysteries bleed into her shadows and leaves us to ask whether they originated from otherworlds, or from our own imaginations.
CHARLES DE LINT, Dreams Underfoot
The moon insists on simplicity. The free-verse epic becomes a sonnet, the sonnet a limerick, the limerick babytalk, the babytalk the beat of a drum. Eventually there's nothing but the rhythm of blind and deafened need. It's peace, of a sort, a return to original silence.
GLEN DUNCAN, By Blood We Live
BUZZ ALDRIN, the actual first words spoken from the surface of the Moon; over six hours later, Neil Armstrong stepped onto the lunar surface and uttered the immortal line "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind", Jul. 20, 1969
- Thou Moon! Sun of the Night,
- Sister mystic of the Day;
- Look down, pause in thy flight!
- Calm me with thy aural ray,
- Enchanting souls to silver sleep.
- Look down from out thy airy keep,
- My fevered senses hypnotize;
- Shut out the World, whereto Mind flies--
- Ambitious Mind, with travail sore;
- Its fibre rest, its calm restore.
WILLIAM BATCHELDER GREENE, "An Invocation," Cloudrifts at Twilight