Star Travel

Came across both of these today, about traveling to stars:

In Nevada Barr’s crime fiction, Winter Study (2008), set at Isle Royale National Park in Lake Superior:

“Anna didn’t want to go back; like Peter Pan, she wanted to fly to the first star to the right, then straight on till morning.”

And in Roger Ebert’s meditation on death and dying, at his blog, something that apparently Vincent van Gogh wrote:

“Looking at the stars always makes me dream, as simply as I dream over the black dots representing towns and villages on a map. Why? I ask myself, shouldn’t the shining dots of the sky be as accessible as the black dots on the map of France? Just as we take a train to get to Tarascon or Rouen, we take death to reach a star. We cannot get to a star while we are alive any more than we can take the train when we are dead. So to me it seems possible that cholera, tuberculosis and cancer are the celestial means of locomotion. Just as steamboats, buses and railways are the terrestrial means. To die quietly of old age, would be to go there on foot.”

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