Scientist alone is true poet he gives us the moon

Even the moon is only poetical because there is a man in the moon.

The moon is friend for the lonesome to talk to.

Here in this moment we are beautiful, nocturnal creatures and our thoughts and words are jewels guarded by the moon.

There is a moon inside every human being. Learn to be companions with it.

Also the moon and I have this in common: we both are wanderers across the night.

It is not improbable, I must point out, that there are inhabitants not only on the moon but on Jupiter too, or (as was delightfully remarked at a recent gathering of certain philosophers) that those areas are now being unveiled for the first time. But as soon as somebody demonstrates the art of flying, settlers from our species of man will not be lacking. Who would once have thought that the crossing of the wide ocean was calmer and safer than of the narrow Adriatic Sea, Baltic Sea, or English Channel? Given ships or sails adapted to the breezes of heaven, there will be those who will not shrink from even that vast expanse. Therefore, for the sake of those who, as it were, will presently be on hand to attempt this voyage, let us establish the astronomy, Galileo, you of Jupiter, and me of the moon.

I don't know if there are men on the moon, but if there are they must be using the earth as their lunatic asylum

The moon is like freedom: it is in the sky and at the bottom of the well.

O just ones, hear me! You cannot condemn this man, monkey or parrot for saying that the moon is the world he comes from. If he is a man, all men are free. Is he then not free to imagine what he wants, even if he does not come from the moon? Can you force him to have only your visions? Impossible! You may make him say that he believes that the moon is not a world, but still he will not believe it. To believe something, one must imagine that it is more probable than not. Unless you show him what is probable or he realizes it himself, he may tell you that he believes and yet he will not believe.

The modern soul is a lunar landscape.

"The moon likes secrets," Meran said. "And secret things. She lets mysteries bleed into her shadows and leaves us to ask whether they originated from otherworlds, or from our own imaginations."

I am living on the moon, I told myself, I have a little house all by myself on the moon.

[A]fterwards it diffused it self thro' the Italic Philosophy, the followers of which taught, that each Star was a World in the infinite Æthereal Space, containing Earth, Air and Æther; and that the Moon, not only was like our Earth, but inhabited by Animals of a larger size, and furnish'd with Plants of a more beautiful appearance.