To Be Taught, If Fortunate Quotes

“We step out of our solar system into the universe seeking only peace and friendship – to teach, if we are called upon; to be taught, if we are fortunate.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“At some point, you have to accept the fact that any movement creates waves, and the only other option is to lie still and learn nothing.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“We celebrate the tree that stretches to the sky, but it is the ground we should ultimately thank.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“A moth was a caterpillar, once, but it no longer is a caterpillar. It cannot break itself back down, cannot metamorphose in reverse. To try to eat leaves again would mean starvation. Crawling back into the husk would provide no shelter. It is a paradox -- the impossibility of reclaiming that which lies behind, housed within a form comprised entirely of the repurposed pieces of that same past. We exist where we begin, yet to remain there is death... I could not have predicted each version of me that I shifted into, but through my history, one constant has always remained true: change itself... I did not know who she was, the one waiting for me to start moving toward her. I was curious about her, all the same. I was eager to meet her.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“Don't believe the lie of individual trees, each a monument to its own self-made success. A forest is an interdependent community. Resources are shared, and life in isolation is a death sentence.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“The amount a person can spare is relative; the value of generosity is not.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“It is difficult to give thought to the stars when the ground is swallowing you up.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“I'm an observer, not a conqueror. I have no interest in changing other worlds to suit me. I choose the lighter touch: changing myself to suit them.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“We exist where we begin, yet to remain is death.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“...a home can only exist in a moment. Something both bound and made. Always temporary, in the grand scheme of things, but vital all the same.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“...sometimes we go, and we try, and we suffer, and despite it all, we learn nothing. Sometimes we are left with more questions than when we started. Sometimes we do harm, despite our best efforts. We are human. We are fragile.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“I know how much a world can change within the bookends of a lifetime.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“The ache to return to a time long gone was almost worse than fear.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“It’s difficult to assign value to discovery when you haven’t sorted out the parameters of reality yet.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“It's understandable why humans stopped living in space in the 2020s. How can you think of the stars when the seas are spilling over? How can you spare thought for alien ecosystems when your cities are too hot to inhabit? How can you trade fuel and metal and ideas when the lines on every map are in flux? How can anyone be expected to care about the questions of worlds above when the questions of the world you're stuck on — the most vital criteria of home and health and safety — remain unanswered?”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“If I ask what I'm asking only of people who agree with me at the outset, with whom I already share a dream and a language, then there's no point in asking at all.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“We have found nothing you can sell. We have found nothing you can put to practical use. We have found no worlds that could be easily or ethically settled, were that end desired. We have satisfied nothing but curiosity, gained nothing but knowledge.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“What we want you to ask yourselves is this: what is space, to you? Is it a playground? A quarry? A flagpole? A classroom? A temple? Who do you believe should go, and for what purpose? Or should we go at all? Is the realm above the clouds immaterial to you, so long as satellites send messages and rocks don't fall? Is human spaceflight a fool's errand, a rich man's fantasy, an unacceptable waste of life and metal? Are our methods grotesque to you, our ethics untenable? Are our hopes outdates? When I tell you of our life out here, do you cheer for us, or do you scoff?
Are astronauts still relevant in your time?”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“When the world you know is out of reach, nothing is more welcome than a measurable reminder that it still exists.”
― Becky Chambers , To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“And worst of all, we knew this could happen. We've been impotently worrying about what a solar flare could do to electronic infrastructure since the 1900s. But my generation was so preoccupied with fixing the mess left by the unaddressed-and-fully-known-about environmental disaster of the previous generation that we committed the same sin of criminal procrastination against yours. I ask no forgiveness for this, because we deserve none.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“Viewed in this way, you can never again see a tree as a single entity, despite its visual dominance. It towers. It’s impressive. But in the end, it’s a fragile endeavour that can only stand thanks to the contributions of many. We celebrate the tree that stretches to the sky, but it is the ground we should ultimately thank.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“Hope isn't about predicting the future; it's about how you approach it.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“I was four. _New and somewhat interesting_ applied to about ninety percent of my day, in everything from the development of a scab, to a cartoon I'd never seen, to an unexpected flavour of juice at lunch. It's difficult to assign value to discovery when you haven't sorted out the parameters of reality yet.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“The mirror knows you're anxious to see yourself — but take your time, it says. I'm here when you're ready, and not a second before. It is the kindest object placement I've ever seen.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“It is a paradox – the impossibility of reclaiming that which lies behind, housed within a form comprised entirely of the repurposed pieces of that same past. We exist where we begin, yet to remain there is death.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“Have you ever been in a place where history becomes tangible? Where you stand motionless, feeling time and importance press around you, press into you?”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“I had become so accustomed to the cacophony that part of me perversely wished for it, more trusting of unending discord than peace that could be snatched away.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“a home can only exist in a moment. Something both found and made. Always temporary, in the grand scheme of things, but vital all the same.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“Are astronauts still relevant in your time?
We have found nothing you can sell. We have found nothing you can put to practical use. We have found no worlds that could be easily or ethically settled, were that the end desired. We have satisfied nothing but curiosity, gained nothing but knowledge.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate

“Have you ever been in a place where history becomes tangible? Where you stand motionless, feeling time and importance press around you, press into you? That was how I felt the first time I stood in the astronaut garden at OCA PNW. Is it still there? Do you know it? Every OCA campus had – has, please let it be has – one: a circular enclave, walled by smooth white stone that towered up and up until it abruptly cut off, definitive as the end of an atmosphere, making room for the sky above. Stretching up from the ground, standing in neat rows and with an equally neat carpet of microclover in between, were trees, one for every person who’d taken a trip off Earth on an OCA rocket. It didn’t matter where you from, where you trained, where your spacecraft launched. When someone went up, every OCA campus planted a sapling. The trees are an awesome sight, but bear in mind: the forest above is not the garden’s entry point. You enter from underground. I remember walking through a short tunnel and into a low-lit domed chamber that possessed nothing but a spiral staircase leading upward. The walls were made of thick glass, and behind it was the dense network you find below every forest. Roots interlocking like fingers, with gossamer fungus sprawled symbiotically between, allowing for the peaceful exchange of carbon and nutrients. Worms traversed roads of their own making. Pockets of water and pebbles decorated the scene. This is what a forest is, after all. Don’t believe the lie of individual trees, each a monument to its own self-made success. A forest is an interdependent community. Resources are shared, and life in isolation is a death sentence. As I stood contemplating the roots, a hidden timer triggered, and the lights faded out. My breath went with it. The glass was etched with some kind of luminescent colourant, invisible when the lights were on, but glowing boldly in the dark. I moved closer, and I saw names – thousands upon thousands of names, printed as small as possible. I understood what I was seeing without being told. The idea behind Open Cluster Astronautics was simple: citizen-funded spaceflight. Exploration for exploration’s sake. Apolitical, international, non-profit. Donations accepted from anyone, with no kickbacks or concessions or promises of anything beyond a fervent attempt to bring astronauts back from extinction. It began in a post thread kicked off in 2052, a literal moonshot by a collective of frustrated friends from all corners – former thinkers for big names gone bankrupt, starry-eyed academics who wanted to do more than teach the past, government bureau members whose governments no longer existed. If you want to do good science with clean money and clean hands, they argued, if you want to keep the fire burning even as flags and logos came down, if you understand that space exploration is best when it’s done in the name of the people, then the people are the ones who have to make it happen.”
― Becky Chambers, To Be Taught, If Fortunate