Today, we are on a path of decay. We are seeing the book close on five decades of accomplishment as the leader in human space exploration.

I know the stars are my home. I learned about them, needed them for survival in terms of navigation. I know where I am when I look up at the sky. I know where I am when I look up at the Moon; it's not just some abstract romantic idea, it's something very real to me. See, I've expanded my home.

Some astronauts describe the routine flushing of urine into space, where the freezing temperatures turn the droplets into a cloud of bright, drifting crystals, as being among the most amazing sights they saw on an entire voyage.

Yes, I am the last man to have walked on the moon, and that's a very dubious and disappointing honor. It's been far too long.

I hold the world speed record downhill, in a Rover. I think it was 17 kilometers per hour, downhill.

We don't have the capability today to put a human being in space of any kind, shape or form, which is absolutely, totally unacceptable when we got the greatest flying machine in the world sitting down at Kennedy in a garage there with nothing to do.

I'm quite disappointed that I'm still the last man on the moon.