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Time Travel Quotes

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Time Travel Quotes

“Non può essere. “Scusa la domanda, ma per caso tuo padre si chiama anche lui Davide?” Non può, vero? Non è possibile. Ha davvero incontrato il figlio del suo primo amore? E quel cretino ha davvero chiamato suo figlio con il suo stesso nome? È così ridicolo? A meno che… Cristo, e se quello fosse il nipote? Prova a fare un rapido calcolo mentale per capire se rientrerebbe nei tempi. Ha conosciuto Davide quando avevano entrambi ventitré anni. Il tempo per mettere incinta una ragazza, sposarsi – magari non in quest’ordine – e diventare nonno è un po’ tirato, questo ragazzo sarebbe un feto altrimenti. Cristo, no, non riesce nemmeno a immaginarselo Davide nonno. Chissà com’è adesso, a quarantacinque anni. Il Davide che ricorda è sempre un giovane uomo bellissimo, dai capelli rossissimi e il sorriso dolce, a volte timido, a volte sfacciato. Sono stati insieme tre giorni, eppure Davide si è piantato dentro Matteo con la forza dell’amore puro, dell’amore vero, quello che ti lascia disperato e orfano a sopravvivere a una vita ormai inutile. Non è mai riuscito a strapparselo dal cuore e forse… forse non ha mai voluto davvero. Perché con Davide ha scoperto chi è davvero. Il ragazzo inarca un sopracciglio. “No? Perché me lo chiedi?”

“Che c’è?” “Non ci avevo mai pensato.” “Non lo fa quasi nessuno, non preoccuparti.” Matteo arriccia le labbra, nervoso. “Ora vuoi solo farmi passare per stronzo.” Davide alza istintivamente le mani in segno di resa. “Non era mia intenzione. Mi dispiace. Sono solo stanco e nervoso.” “Mh.” L’altro non risponde per qualche istante mentre riprendono a camminare. “Perché sei nervoso?” Sospira, afflitto. “Perché ti comporti… perché sembra che ti vergogni di avermi vicino. Io… non sono abituato, tutto qui. Sto bene. Starò bene.” Matteo inchioda sulle piastrelline bianche del pavimento al centro della corsia. “Non mi vergogno di te. Non mi piace che la gente sappia i fatti miei.” “La gente non sa proprio niente di quello che fai o facciamo.” “Questo lo dici tu.” Inspira a fondo e si passa una mano tra i riccioli scuri che gli ricadono sulla fronte. “Senti… mi dispiace, okay? Andiamo a casa, per favore. Non voglio fare una piazzata qui in mezzo.” Davide annuisce e rimane in silenzio per tutto il resto del tempo, a due passi di distanza da lui. A quanto pare negli anni ‘90 non è contemplato che due uomini possano fare la spesa insieme. Sarà un’altra cosa da femmine, per citare Matteo stesso.”

“Waldo nodded and waved goodbye pathetically, like a young father going off to war. As soon as the door was closed and he was gone, Jeanne squelched her own apprehensions, opened the paper and read the poem Waldo had written for her: One taste of Jeanne and out I flew Wildly, madly, in no direction But hers, and yet so straight and true I fly towards her with no protection It feels so strange to move this way Though I should land, desire it seems Moves in strange circles and so I stay Disoriented beyond my wildest dreams.”

“There is a non-technical way to travel in time: Try to create religious generations in your country, then you will certainly travel back in time, into the old eras!”

“Crying isn't so bad. I mean, I have a sister..." He paused, and she had the distinct impression he was debating whether or not he should elaborate. On what, Ellie wasn't sure. "And I cry all the time," he said, his voice slightly higher pitched than it usually was. "You do?" Ellie ventured, her voice sounding muted from crying. "Well, it's been a while...and by 'a while', I mean about two days,”

“Ebony!" The shout was desperate as the look on the man's face. She looked down, only to realize she hung off a ledge, no landing in sight. Fire glowed from every tree and blade of grass around her. "Don't you let go," he pleaded. "I can't reach--" she strained harder, but the ledge collapsed beneath her grasp. "Don't let--" "No!" Her fingers slipped, then she plunged into the darkness.”

“Pulling the threadbare sheet over her shoulder, she rolled onto her side away from him. Cries, deep and gun-wrenching built in her chest, threatening to steal away what air was left in her lungs. She didn't care that Bucket Man sat a foot away, witnessing her lose what grip she had left on reality. She had nothing. Her memory was gone and she was already half dead. Her only friend was agony, and she was the daughter of a monster.”

“Even the bruising couldn't disguise the strength of his features. His jaw, cheekbones, nose and--even his forehead--nothing was lacking in confidence about him--in the looks or personality department. What she wouldn't give to have his confidence. And absolution of guilt.”

“Ethan grabbed Alijah's shirtfront and hauled him out back of the house. "I don't need a lecture from--" "Oh yes, you do." Ethan gave him a helpful push down the remaining stairs, not a bit remorseful for making him lose his footing. But the sap recovered in time. Blast it all--Ethan truly wanted to rearrange the man's face.”

“You'll yet find happiness." A twang of anger snapped within her at his words. "Shut your trap, highness, or I'll bloody well shut it for you!" She lunged forward and grabbed the front of his shirt. Her fingers itched for- for what? A weapon. She berated herself for her violent state of mind. Hands still fisted in his shirt, Justice felt their trembling and prayed he did not. Jonathan glanced down at her hands, face impassive, then returned his eyes to her face. When Justice finally gave in and lifted her gaze, her vision blurred at the empathy written in his eyes.”

“As the days wore on, there was less and less of Aliya left in her. She couldn’t remember what Alex’s eyes had looked like, or how her father laughed at off-color jokes, or what the head of surgery said to her the first time she walked into the operating room. It was all gone. Her new reality was the castle, Earton, and these strange people that she had to build a life with.”

“. . . what I told Malory happened next is that when he looked over at her then it was like he'd been waiting a hundred years to see her, and this crazy ass Ledfeather girl all the way from Standing Rock, she looked off after the elk and then back at Doby through her hair, like she'd maybe been waiting for him too, but was scared a little, wanted to be sure, so Doby opened his mouth and said her name across the backseat of Junior's cab, Claire, like a flower opening in his mouth, and she held her lips together and nodded thank you to him, yes, thank you, and then swallowed what was in her throat and just let the sides of their hands touch together again some like it didn't really matter. But it did.”

“Matter and energy are equivalent, according to the equation E=mc2, where E stand for energy, m for mass and c for the speed of light,' 'Merapa explained. 'Matter can't be transported at the speed of light but energy can. Therefore, during a time shift transformation, matter is converted to energy then condenses back. In other words all the molecules in your body have been changed from matter to energy then back again.' 'Wow. It's a wonder it's not fatal,' Dirck said. 'Sometimes it is. If any transcription errors occur between the DNA and RNA in your vital organs you're all but dead.”

“Faye keeps forgetting what she'll be giving up if she decides to stay here. Access to modern medicine, for starters. In 2015 people can survive cancer, tuberculosis, scarlet fever. Vaccines eradicated polio and measles. Do you really want to live in a world with iron lungs and polio, Faye? Do you?” “I guess I could go back to 2015 and live in a world with meth, heroin, terrorism, HIV and Ebola. Huge improvement, right?”

“Grateful moments, blessed time.”

“There is no time. All things exist simultaneously. All events occur at once. This Book is being written, and as it's being written it's already written; it already exists. In fact, that's where you're getting all this information - from the book that already exists. You're merely bringing it into form. This is what is meant by: "Even before you ask, I will have answered." [...] Time is experienced as a movement, a flow, rather than a constant. It is you who are moving, not time. Time has no movement. There is only One Moment. [...] It is not time which "passes", but objects which pass through, and move around in, a static field which you call space. "Time" is simply your way of counting movments! Scientists deeply understand this connection and therefore speak in terms of the "Space-Time Continuum.”

“You remember people who aren't there. At least, you do for a while and then the memories fade and you don't really know why." "Narine, what you're describing is called false memory. Things you're sure you remember correctly that just aren't real. Another term for it is the Mandela Effect, and it's—" "Mundane people call it that, but it's a modern term. And I believe Mandela did die earlier in one timeline. There was an assassination attempt, but we stopped the plot from going forward." Jacob opened his mouth, then closed it and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's normal." "It is normal." She leaned forward. "For you, it's very normal. Because you're a mage and a traveler. Your memories are not false and they never have been. Your parents and your teachers probably called you forgetful—called you imaginative if they were being nice—but you're not forgetful." He swallowed, and she could see the beginnings of belief dawning in his expression. She kept going. "You don't remember less, Jacob, you remember more. You remember the possibilities of a time that wasn't meant to be.”