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"La bestialidad imperialista, bestialidad que no tiene una frontera determinada, ni pertenece a un país determinado. Bestias fueron las hordas hitleristas, c...
¿Qué le gustaría decirle a los jóvenes? Pregunta el entrevistador a un Tarkovsky plácidamente posado sobre un árbol. A lo que el cineasta ruso, cuya obra por cierto destacó por comulgar con elementos como la pausa, el silencio y la soledad, responde que su principal consejo sería el aprender a cultivar la soledad:
No sé, creo que solo me gustaría decirles que aprendan a estar solos y procuren pasar el mayor tiempo posible consigo mismos. Me parece que una de las fallas entre los jóvenes es que intentan reunirse alrededor de eventos que son ruidosos, casi agresivos. En mi opinión, este deseo de reunirse para no sentirse solos es un síntoma desafortunado. Cada persona necesita aprender desde la infancia cómo pasar tiempo con uno mismo. Eso no significa que uno deba ser solitario, sino que no debiera aburrirse consigo mismo porque la gente que se aburre en su propia compañía me parece que está en peligro en lo que a autoestima se refiere.
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Cobarde…
La posibilidad de destruir un planeta es algo insignificante comparado con el poder de la Fuerza
Darth Vader
“Te quiero desde el momento en que el viento te trajo a mí”
From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of any particular interest. But for us, it's different. Consider again that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there – on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam. The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity – in all this vastness – there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. The Earth is the only world known, so far, to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment, the Earth is where we make our stand. It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.
— Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space, 1997 reprint, pp. xv–xvi
En la Ciencia la única verdad sagrada, es que no hay verdades sagradas.
Para hacer una tarta de manzana primero tienes que crear un universo.
Carl Sagan
Siempre ha de haber dos, ni más ni menos. Un maestro, y un aprendiz.
Yoda
El cosmonauta, sin saberlo, arruina el negocio del mito de Dios sentado atento y fijo en un butacón inmenso. ¿Qué se han hecho los Tronos y Potencias? ¿Dónde están los Castigos y Obediencias? ¿Y san Crescencio y san Bitongo? ¿Y san Cirilo Zangandongo? ¿Y el fumazo del incienso? ¿Y la fulígine de la mirra? ¿Y las estrellitas pegadas al cristal ahumado nocturno? ¿Y los arcángeles y los ángeles, y los serafines y los querubines, y las Dominaciones en sus escuadrones, y las vírgenes, y todos los demás animales afines? El cosmonauta sigue su pauta. Sube sube sube sube sube sube sube sube sube sube sube sube sube. Deja atrás la última nube. Rompe el último velo. El Cielo. ¿El Cielo? Frío. El vasto cielo frío. Hay en efecto un butacón, pero está vacío.
-NICOLÁS GUILLÉN