PAUL: It could be no other way, Captain, at least for Dr. Wright and me, and I'm certain my wife will say the same when she comes back.
WRIGHT: In some ways, Captain, the distance between Earth and Lucifer is greater than the simple light years between our two stars.
SLADE: I'm—sorry. Wasn't expecting it, that's all. Let me get used to the idea a little.
SPEARMAN: You can consider me neutral, Captain Slade. I have no place on Lucifer. One more utopia. Idealism running contrary to obvious facts. It will break up—fine-spun intellectual quarrels—no central control.
PAUL: Until, sometime, a strong man takes over and makes an empire out of it...?
WRIGHT: Please—
SPEARMAN: No comment....
STERN: If I might differ with you, Mr. Spearman, it seems to me—after being shown over this lovely island—the domesticated cattle and those wonderful white beasts—the plantations and the houses—the perfect English and adult thinking of our new friends—above all, the school—it seems to me that Dr. Wright and his colleagues are realists of the first water. Of course I'm strongly prejudiced in their favor, because—well, during the twelve years of our journey I dreamed constantly of some such achievement as this myself. So it's like coming home. I'm a doctor, Mr. Spearman; before I was chosen for the journey, I ran a clinic. As an intern, I had a lot of ambulance and emergency service at one of the big hospitals in Melbourne; I saw a superabundance of—let's call them obvious facts. Now I think the sunny quiet here, the good health and intelligence of the children, the gardens, the devotion of these people to each other and to their work, the searching thought they've given to their laws and their future—I fancy those are obvious facts too...?
WRIGHT: Man is neither good nor bad, but both. But he can swing the balance.
STERN: Too right. I think I understand you, Doctor—why you want to stay here. I think I understand it very well.