Who are we, if not measured by our impact on others?
The fact that some geniuses were laughed at does not imply that all who are laughed at are geniuses.
As the ancient myth makers knew, we are children equally of the earth and the sky.
This oak tree and me, we're made of the same stuff.
The Cosmos is all that is or was or ever will be. Our feeblest contemplations of the Cosmos stir us -- there is a tingling in the spine, a catch in the voice, a faint sensation, as if a distant memory, of falling from a height. We know we are approaching the greatest of mysteries.
These days there seems to be nowhere left to explore, at least on the land area of the Earth. Victims of their very success, the explorers now pretty much stay home.