Martian Child

Dennis can I say just one last thing about Mars, which may be strange, coming from a science fiction writer. But right now, you and me here, put together entirely from atoms that've been part of millions of other organisms before they became us, sitting on this round rock with a core of liquid iron, held down by this force that so troubles you called gravity, all te while spinning around the sun at 67,000 miles an hour, and whizzing through the Milky way at 600,000 miles an hour, in a universe that very well may be chasing its own tail at the speed of light.

And amidst all this frantic activity, fully cognizant of our own imminent demise, which is a very pretty way of saying we all know we're gonna die, we reach out to one another. Sometimes for the sake of vanity, sometimes for the reasons you're not old enough to understand yet, but a lot of times we just reach out and expect nothing in return.

Isn't that strange? Isn't that weird, Isn't that weird enough?

Quoted from David, the science fiction writer, trying to convince his adopted son, Dennis, who believes he is from Mars (the kid in the box), that being from Mars isn't that weird after all, in "Martian Child".