When I was a kid I used to tell myself the moon was a silver gong and if I could climb high enough to beat on it with both hands all my wishes would come true.
(John Dos Passos (1896-1970), U.S. novelist, poet, playwright, painter. Originally performed as The Moon Is A Gong in 1925 by the Harvard Dramatic Club. Tom in The Garbage Man, pt. 2, sc. 1, Three Plays, Harcourt, Brace and Company (1934).)
We carry adolescence around in our bodies all our lives. We get through the Car Crash Age alive and cruise through our early twenties as cool dudes, wily, dashing, winsome . . . shooting baskets, the breeze, the moon, and then we try to become caring men, good husbands, great fathers, good citizens.
(Garrison Keillor (20th century), U.S. humorist and author. The Book of Guys, introduction (1993).)
Although sleep pressed upon my closing eyelids, and the moon, on her horses, blushed in the middle of the sky, nevertheless I could not leave off watching your play; there was too much fire in your two voices.
(Propertius Sextus (c. 50-16 B.C.), Roman elegist. Oxford Classical Text, I.10. 7-10.)
There are three times in a man's life when he has the right to yell at the moonwhen he marries; when his children come; and when he finishes a job he had to be crazy to start.
(Borden Chase [Frank Fowler] (1900-1971), U.S. screenwriter, Charles Schnee, screenwriter, and Howard Hawks. Melville (Harry Carey, Sr.), Red River, after Matthew Garth (Montgomery Clift) and his men bring their herd to market (1948).)
So there he is at last. Man on the moon. The poor magnificent bungler! He can't even get to the office without undergoing the agonies of the damned, but give him a little metal, a few chemicals, some wire and twenty or thirty billion dollars and, vroom! there he is, up on a rock a quarter of a million miles up in the sky.
(Russell Baker (b. 1925), U.S. journalist. New York Times (July 21, 1969).)