Actually, I was the very lowest ranked member of the crew. I would only be “in command” if I were the only remaining person.”What do you know? I’m in command

Problem is (follow me closely here, the science is pretty complicated), if I cut a hole in the Hab, the air won't stay inside anymore.

As with most of life's problems, this one can be solved by a box of pure radiation.

If ruining the only religious icon I have leaves me vulnerable to Martian vampires, I'll have to risk it.

How did I end up in this situation? I'm the district sales manager of a napkin factor. Why is my daughter in space?

Turns out even NASA can't improve on duct tape.

I'm so close to Schiaparelli I can taste it. I guess it would taste like sand, mostly, but that's not the point.

It is of course dangerous to set off an explosive device on a spacecraft.

Mars and my own stupidity keep trying to kill me.

I stumbled up the hill back toward the Hab. As I crested the rise, I saw something that made me very happy and something that made me very sad: The Hab was intact (yay!) and the MAV was gone (boo!).

Space is dangerous. It's what we do here. If you want to play it safe all the time, go join an insurance company.

In the woods too, a man casts off his years, as the snake his slough, and at what period soever of life, is always a child. In the woods, is perpetual youth.

Eventually we all get tired of any and everything!

Family isnt about blood relationships, its about the meaning behind them. I relize now that sharing chromosoms is not the only way to having a family, its about the friendship behind it.

Change must be measured from a known base line.

A novel is a work of poetry. In order to write it, one must have tranquility of spirit and of impression.

I think these shows with the young kids doing these jumps, doing these fantastic back flips, I think they're absolutely great. They did what I never did.

In the Far East, it is taken for granted that the training of a monk is physically rigorous and academically challenging.

The wailing of the newborn infant is mingled with the dirge for the dead.

You're either too fat or too thin. You just can't win.