Man has an obligation to the sky. Man must penetrate it.
The night sky winks at us, the optically illusory twinkles of its winking stars like the pointy eyelashes of a saucily-winking strumpet. Space is an impudent mistress, but a welcoming one. Space spreads itself before our fascinated eyes with a certain brassy, no-bullshit confidence as if to say: "Ah, yes. I remember you, Man. You and me have been places before. I took you to the moon, didn't I? More than once."
We've been too long estranged. The longing has grown unchecked, all the while we scarcely noticed it - but now the need burns hot, and it must be quenched! We know we want it. We know space wants it.
We must take the task in hand. We must prep and fuel our huge, towering rocket and aim its point straight up into the glossy pale curtain of sky and tender pink clouds that separate us from what we want! They will part gently before us, as the fiery roar builds beneath the stiff, upward surging point of our steely column! Faster and faster we will roar up and in, past the slick, clinging edges of the atmosphere and deep into the dark, swallowing void! Oh, what bliss, to feel the pull of that vacuum grasp upon the ship's strong, firm, invincible hot hard hull! Steel yourselves for an epic journey, brave explorers, because we have a very long way to go indeed as our craft is riven with a delicious shudder along its full length, and utterly consumed by a glorious explosion!
Oh shit. That wasn't supposed to happen.
Somebody screwed up on the checklist somewhere.
Give me a break, it's been a long while since the last time.