I was like a lost moon — my planet destroyed in some cataclysmic, disaster-movie scenario of desolation — that continued, nevertheless, to circle in a tight little orbit around the empty space left behind, ignoring the laws of gravity.

Lost somewhere between the eternity of time and immensity of space is our tiny planetary home

We are lost, she and I, unseen and not seeing, unheard and not hearing, unknown by others.

We call out into the distance... Less than a pearl in a sea of stars, we are a lost island in the shadows.

The only planet we are sure is inhabited is a tiny speck of rock and metal, shining feebly by reflected sunlight, and at this distance utterly lost.

at school I have learned there’s no room in sky for my mother’s heaven; there’s no room at the center of the earth for hell, either. It is new worlds I will have to look for. (p106)

We are so small between the stars, so large against the sky | and lost among these subway crowds, I try to catch your eye.

Often we lose sight of our place in the universe, some never knew at all just how miniscule we humans are compared to everything else.

Who are we? We find that we live on an insignificant planet of a humdrum star lost in a galaxy tucked away in some forgotten corner of a universe in which there are far more galaxies than people.

Behold a universe so immense that I am lost in it. I no longer know where I am. I am just nothing at all. Our world is terrifying in its insignificance.

Lost, so small amid that dark, hands grown cold, body image fading down corridors of television sky.

The travel writer seeks the world we have lost — the lost valleys of the imagination.