But there's nothing that can replace, from a memory point of view, the overwhelming inspiration and feeling one gets, number one when he's standing a quarter of a million miles away and looking back at this Earth, and then place yourself physically on another planet. You're physically in somewhat of a static position on another planet, standing in sunlight looking at the Earth surrounded by the blackest black you can conceive in your mind. That is indeed in our Earthly language a paradox, but in space and on the Moon it is truth. Other than the color you bring with you to the Moon, it's the only color. And it's blackness, not darkness.
Darkness is the absence of light.
Blackness is something out there, it's the blackness that's the endlessness of space and time, and it is something that does exist. I know it exists because I saw it with my own eyes. Our Earth moves with such purpose and such logic and such beauty through that blackness it is incomprehensible. It's just too beautiful to have happened by accident. For the first scientist to fly in America's space program, it was much the same.