Canyon Quotes - page 3
[Doc Dubois] had been focusing all of his attention in the other direction, on Peach Pit and its iron-rich "children,” PP1, PP2, and PP3, nailing down their exact orbital parameters, taking high-res photographs.
PP3 was especially interesting. It was a congealed glob of mostly iron, similar in composition to Amalthea. It was some fifty kilometers in diameter. And it had a deep cleft on one side, comparable in size to the Grand Canyon, apparently formed by a collision that had rent its outer skin while it was partly congealed. Doob had begun calling PP3 Cleft.
Neal Stephenson
At this sunset hour, the canyon walls are indescribably beautiful and I fear the magic of photography can never record what I see now. The tall spires near the canyon's top and the walls of the canyon up there look as if God had reached out and swiped a brush of golden paint across them, gilding these rocks in the bright glow of the setting sun.
Barry Goldwater
![You see, none of us saw the sandstone or the shale [of the Grand Canyon] being layed down. There's a supposed ten million year gap there, but I don't see a gap, but that might be different from what Bill Nye would see. But, you see, there's a difference between what you actually observe directly and then your interpretation in regard to the past. (Ken Ham)](https://cdn.quotesdtb.com/img/quotes_images_webp/95/ken-ham-bill-canyon-865695.webp)
This morning I came, I saw, and I was conquered, as everyone would be who sees for the first time this great feat of mankind... Ten years ago the place where we gathered was an unpeopled, forbidding desert. In the bottom of the gloomy canyon whose precipitous walls rose to height of more than a thousand feet, flowed a turbulent, dangerous river... The site of Boulder City was a cactus-covered waste. And the transformation wrought here in these years is a twentieth century marvel.
Franklin D. Roosevelt
All my work is informed by personal experience. It is the seed to which I apply a transcendent dialogue. The idea for my first bubble machine was rooted in a complex combination of many memories. During the Second World War I was in my sister's arms when I saw a young Filipino guerrilla shot by a Japanese soldier. The young guerrilla ran into our garden. The sight of him lying there dying, red blood bubbles foaming from his mouth, made a strong impression on me. Flying over the Grand Canyon on my first trip to America, visiting a soap factory at the bottom of Notre Dame de la Garde in Marseilles, a visit to a brewery in Edinburgh in Scotland: these left deep impressions as well. My mother cooking "guinataan”, a Philippine dessert made of coconut milk and tropical fruit, and the movement of clouds over Manila Bay near where I was born, inspired me to create a work of art that would express and embody the motion of clouds.
David Medalla
Many in the audience had already been riled up by Trump's famous dismissal of McCain's years as a POW - "I like people who weren't captured." They'd been appalled when, just months earlier, a Trump White House aide allegedly dismissed the opinion of the cancer-stricken McCain because "he's dying anyway." They'd been enraged that, two days before the memorial service, Trump had again attacked McCain after reports of his refusal to lower American flags in his honor. On Election Day, many of them - led by McCain's widow, Cindy - took revenge: Arizona is on target to choose a Democrat - Biden - for the first time in almost 25 years. Biden's early lead was such that Fox News declared him the winner in the Grand Canyon State on Tuesday, altering the electoral math and pulling the rug out from under Trump's plans to claim victory in the overall polling before the Biden-leaning mailed ballots were counted in the Midwestern states.
John McCain
May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds. May your rivers flow without end, meandering through pastoral valleys tinkling with bells, past temples and castles and poets' towers into a dark primeval forest where tigers belch and monkeys howl, through miasmal and mysterious swamps and down into a desert of red rock, blue mesas, domes and pinnacles and grottos of endless stone, and down again into a deep vast ancient unknown chasm where bars of sunlight blaze on profiled cliffs, where deer walk across the white sand beaches, where storms come and go as lightning clangs upon the high crags, where something strange and more beautiful and more full of wonder than your deepest dreams waits for you - beyond that next turning of the canyon walls.
Edward Abbey