Sir Arthur Charles Clarke, CBE, FRAS (16 December 1917 – 19 March 2008) was a British science fiction writer, science writer and futurist, inventor, undersea explorer, and television series host.
He was moving through a new order of creation, of which few men had ever dreamed. Beyond the realms of sea and land and air and space lay the realms of fire, which he alone had been privileged to glimpse. It was too much to expect that he would also understand.
Now I'm a scientific expert; that means I know nothing about absolutely everything.
Only feeble minds are paralyzed by facts.
If such a thing had happened once, it must surely have happened many times in this galaxy of a hundred billion suns.
The Earth would only have to move a few million kilometers sunward-or starward-for the delicate balance of climate to be destroyed. The Antarctic icecap would melt and flood all low-lying land; or the oceans would freeze and the whole world would be locked in eternal winter. Just a nudge in either direction would be enough.
No communication technology has ever disappeared, but instead becomes increasingly less important as the technological horizon widens.
The inspirational value of the space program is probably of far greater importance to education than any input of dollars. . . A whole generation is growing up which has been attracted to the hard disciplines of science and engineering by the romance of space.
Every age has its dreams, its symbols of romance. Past generations were moved by the graceful power of the great windjammers, by the distant whistle of locomotives pounding through the night, by the caravans leaving on the Golden Road to Samarkand, by quinqueremes of Nineveh from distant Ophir. . . Our grandchildren will likewise have their inspiration-among the equatorial stars. They will be able to look up at the night sky and watch the stately procession of the Ports of Earth-the strange new harbors where the ships of space make their planetfalls and their departures.
The piece of equipment I'm most found off is my telescope. The other night I had a superb view of the moon.
Using material ferried up by rockets, it would be possible to construct a "space station" in. . . orbit. The station could be provided with living quarters, laboratories and everything needed for the comfort of its crew, who would be relieved and provisioned by a regular rocket service. (1945)
Utopia was here at last: its novelty had not yet been assailed by the supreme enemy of a ll Utopias - boredom.
I have great faith in optimism as a guiding principle, if only because it offers us the opportunity of creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Before you become too entranced with gorgeous gadgets and mesmerizing video displays, let me remind you that information is not knowledge, knowledge is not wisdom, and wisdom is not foresight. Each grows out of the other, and we need them all.
If we have learned one thing from the history of invention and discovery, it is that, in the long run-and often in the short one-the most daring prophecies seem laughably conservative.
Sometimes I think we're alone in the universe, and sometimes I think we're not. In either case the idea is quite staggering.
Some things have eternal value, and compassion is one of them. I hope we never lose that. Compassion for humans as well as animals.
I think in the long run the money that s been put into the space program is one of the best investments this country has ever made. . . This is a downpayment on the future of mankind. It's as simple as that.
One of the great tragedies of mankind is that morality has been hijacked by religion.
Never attribute to malevolence what is merely due to incompetence
The West needs to relearn what the rest of the world has never forgotten - that there is nothing sinful in leisure as long as it does not degenerate into mere sloth.