Books are a time machine.
Now I got a time machine at home. It only goes foreword at regular speed. It's essentially a cardboard box and on the outside I wrote time machine in sharpie.
If the universe is a non-spatial computer, a 'time machine' is a program that allows a user to have the same (ontologically non-spatial) feelings or experiences that occurred or s/he merely feels to have occurred in the past, with an in-built function to have different feelings or experiences than those of the past, and thus creating a possibility to change the past or to rewrite history in a pseudo sense.
I would go to bed every night and have dreams about having a time machine and somehow I'd have the ability to move through time and space freely, and save Anne Frank.
You want to know about a certain period and what happened?-You go into this building and all of a sudden you are transported! You're not just shown pictures, not even 3-D pictures, not even movies, but suddenly you are transported live by a time machine to that very time, that very age and you see it happen, you watch it happen, you hear it happen, you feel it happen! Think of it! Not only the movies but the 'feelies'! You are there!
I go to the movies whenever I get the chance, because the movie theater is like the woods. It's another place that's like a time machine.
Man ... can go up against gravitation in a balloon, and why should he not hope that ultimately he may be able to stop or accelerate his drift along the Time-Dimension, or even turn about and travel the other way.
Camera and eye are together a time machine with which the mind and human being can do the same kind of violence to time and space as dreams.
When I write about a 15-year old, I jump, I return to the days when I was that age. It's like a time machine. I can remember everything. I can feel the wind. I can smell the air. Very actually. Very vividly.
I don't know if Jerry Lawler got here in a plane, or a time machine.
What would happen if history could be rewritten as casually as erasing a blackboard? Our past would be like the shifting sands at the seashore, constantly blown this way or that by the slightest breeze. History would be constantly changing every time someone spun the dial of a time machine and blundered his or her way into the past. History, as we know it, would be impossible. It would cease to exist.
Sci-fi uses the images that sf - starting with H.G. Wells - made familiar: space travel, aliens, galactic wars and federations, time machines, et cetera, taking them literally, not caring if they are possible or even plausible. It has no interest in or relation to real science or technology. It's fantasy in space suits. Spectacle. Wizards with lasers. Kids with ray guns. I've written both, but I have to say I respect science fiction enough that I wince when people call it sci-fi.
For me, poetry is the music of being human. And also a time machine by which we can travel to who we are and to who we will become.
I write about times and places I would visit in a time machine, like ancient Rome or the Wild West.
You never forget where you were when you write a song; it's a very proper memory, so I knew exactly where I was and what I was doing for each track. It was like going into a time machine.
Jim Grimsley's unflinching self-examination of his own boyhood racial prejudices during the era of school desegregation is one of the most compelling memoirs of recent years. Vivid, precise, and utterly honest, How I Shed My Skin is a time-machine of sorts, a reminder that our past is every bit as complex as our present, and that broad cultural changes are often intimate, personal, and idiosyncratic.
Do you know who is ready to go with the presidential campaign? Jeb Bush. Jeb already has plans to end the war in Iraq that his brother started. All he needs is a hot tub time machine.
Within a science fictional space, memory and regret are, when taken together, the set of necessary and sufficient elements required to produce a time machine.
All this money can't buy me a time machine.
When I was in high school, girls made fun of me for liking vampire movies. Now, I'd be their king. Time machine, where are you?
Some countries and some people are so primitively religious and so underdeveloped that they don't need a time machine to go back to the past; they are already in there, in the very distant and dark past!
I read everything by Ian McEwan, he is so elegant. I love reading anything about Shakespeare, too. He is my first love. If I had a time machine, I would be hanging out with him.
And I have by me, for my comfort, two strange white flowers - shriveled now, and brown and flat and brittle - to witness that even when mind and strength had gone, gratitude and a mutual tenderness still lived on in the heart of men.
I wanted a do over. A time machine. That magic wand. But real life didn't have any easy outs, and very few happily-ever-afters. The real world was more like a Choose Your Own Adventure book, with most of the choices ripped out before you even opened the cover.
Strength is the outcome of need; security sets a premium on feebleness.
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