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Quote by J. Aleksandr Wootton

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Forgetting: impressions from the millennial borderland

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J. Aleksandr Wootton

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“Retrograde time is forward time which has passed the turning point; then as it turns back it is freighted with the load of accumulated knowledge. It is information rich. Logically, then, in its retrograde tracking, it would divest itself of its knowledge: teach rather than learn, so that when it arrived at the other end, it would be information poor, even info empty.”

TimeEvolutionFutureRadioSingularityBig BangEspSignalBig Crunch
Book:The Exegesis of Philip K. Dick
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“Time is the sole photographer of all the times, from the Big Bang till the possible Big Crunch!”

PhotographyMehmet Murat Ildan öZlü SözleriPhotographerMurat Ildan SözleriMehmet Murat IldanöZlü SözlerIldan SözleriöZdeyişlerTürk Yazar SözleriTürk YazarlarAforizmalarTürk Yazar öZdeyişleriDarbımeselKelamıkibarTürk EdebiyatıTürk EdebiyatçılarıBig BangPhotography QuotesPhotographsPhotography CaptionsPhotography QuotePhotographer QuotesBig Crunch
Author:Mehmet Murat Ildan
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“Although you don’t know it, you simulate the Big Bang every time you dream. A dreamworld is a world created from nothing by a single monadic mind. The dreamworld explodes out of nowhere, through nothing but the power of thought. Also, you can bring this world to an end when you conclude the dream. You carry out your own Big Crunch.”

PhilosophyDreamsIdealismDreamingNothingSomethingBig BangBig Crunch
Book:God Is Mathematics: The Proofs of the Eternal Existence of Mathematics
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“Rest back again." He does and then groans when I start massaging the shampoo into his hair. The sound goes straight to my core. I work slowly. Slower than I should, but it feels good to have my hands on him. My fingers glide over the hard curve of his skull, down to the thick cords of his neck. "God," he whispers. "Please don't stop." His muscles are so strong here that it hurts my fingers to dig in, but his noises of pleasure and the way he leans into my touch keep me going. Foam rinses around my hands; water trickles down the tan column of his neck to wander over the hills and valleys of his wide-set shoulders. My lips swell with the need to follow those waterdrops, press against his wet skin. I bite the inside of my cheek. Macon sighs, his lids lowering, and I move closer, my breasts hitting the back of the tub. I push along the rise of his shoulders. They're like silk over granite, slippery wet and warm. He grunts, and I do it again. He leans into my hands, whimpering softly. I take the moment to rise and turn on the taps again. We don't speak as I rinse the shampoo from his hair. It's a strange thing, taking care of him this way. I'm turned on--- more than I thought I could be. It's a low hum in my body, the lush swelling of my breasts, of my sex. It's in the painful tenderness in my nipples and the sensitive edges of my lips. I want to savor him like I do fine dark chocolate, letting each bite melt on my tongue, lingering over the delicious taste of it.”

MusclesMassageIntimate ActHot Romantic SuspenseBathe
Book:Dear Enemy
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