Circa AD 1700 to 1799

Now my children! You wish to remake each other? Julie, you want your lover transformed into a more tender companion? And you Leander, you would rather that your Julie had a more aggressive bearing?

Ah, poor man, Rip Van Winkle was his name, but it's twenty years since he went away from home with his gun, and never has been heard of since,—

Following the directions of the two men we walked on: but the path pointed out to us seemed to lead away from where we imagined the Petit Trianon to be; and there was a feeling of depression and loneliness about the place. I began to feel as if I were walking in my sleep; the heavy dreaminess was oppressive. At last we came upon a path crossing ours, and saw in front of us a building consisting of some columns roofed in, and set back in the trees. Seated on the steps was a man with a heavy black cloak round his shoulders, and wearing a slouch hat. At that moment the eerie feeling which had begun in the garden culminated in a definite impression of something uncanny and fear-inspiring. The man slowly turned his face, which was marked by smallpox: his complexion was very dark.

How’s this? We throw a modern section into the picture. The hero’s a young hoofer in a Broadway show, right? Now he sings and he dances, right? But one night backstage, he’s reading A Tale of Two Cities, in between numbers, see? And a sandbag falls and hits him on the head, and he dreams he’s back during the French Revolution, right? Well, this way we get in the modern dancing numbers—♫Charleston, Charleston♫—but in the dream part, we can still use the costume stuff!

I believe that when I go back to my house at Berkeley Square at half past five tonight, I shall walk straight into the 18th century and meet the people living there.

In my time it was June 5, 1942. The only thing that’s certain is that it is summer; the year depends on—well, it depends on what year you were living in when all this happened.

Maybe tomorrow you’ll be visiting your great, great grandmother. 

Roger, I believe the 18th century still exists. It’s all around us, if only we could find it. Put it this way: Polaris, the North Star, is very bright, yet its light takes nearly fifty years to reach us. For all we know, Polaris may have ceased to exist somewhere around 1900. Yet we still see it, its past is our present. As far as Polaris is concerned, Teddy Roosevelt is just going down San Juan hill.

Gee, maybe people in the past won’t be scared of me.

Change the past! Why haven’t I thought of this before? It can be done!

Tad was certain that if he mixed ammonia with a chemical he had brewed called Dyproxylin, then heated this mixture in a flask to boiling, chilled it suddenly, you could, by breathing the fumes, project yourself forward in time.

When Ernst materialized again, he found himself in familiar surroundings! He realized it was his own town, but there was something different . . .

After I repaired it, I tested the our hand by pushing it backward all the way around . . . and today became yesterday!

This is a funny lookin’ bottle—yeah, neat. But I bet if I took it home, Pop would say, “It’s just another piece of junk.” Nobody let’s me do anything I want to. I wish I was far away from here; I wish I was on a pirate ship.

And now I shall send you back. . . hundreds of years into the past! You will have forty-eight hours to bring me Blackbeard’s treasure chest! Do not fail!

Is it all ready? Right. Come on then. Back to creation. We mustn’t waste any more time. They’ll think I’ve lost control again and put it all down to evolution.

“No one escapes Cap’n Bones!” he roared. His breath was terrible.

“Yes! And you have to keep going for our sake,” said Annie. “For the sake of the future children of America, sir.”

Es regnete fürchterlich. Ich hätte besser nicht nur den Regenmantel, sondern auch Gummistiefel angezogen. Mein Lieblings-Magnolienbaum an der Ecke ließ traurif sein Blüten hängen. Brevor ich ihn erreicht hatte, war ich schon dreimal in eine Pfütze getreten. Als ich gerade eine vierte umgehen wollte, riss es mich vollkommen ohne Vorwarnung von den Beinen. Mein magen fuhr Achterbahn und die Straße verschwamm vor meinen Augen zu einem grauen Fluss.

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It was raining cats and dogs, and I wished I’d put on my wellies. The flowers on my favorite magnolia tree on the corner were drooping in a melancholy way. Before I reached it, I’d already splashed through three puddles. Just as I was trying to steer my way around a fourth, I was swept suddenly off my soggy feet. My stomach flip-flopped, and before my eyes, the street blurred into a grey river.

Rubinrot, Begabt mit der Magie des Raben, Schließt G-Dur den Kreis, Den zwölf gebildet haben.

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Ruby Red, with G-major, the magic of the raven, brings the Circle of Twelve home into safe haven.

(Imagine our relief to learn of Waterloo.)

I am slightly lost in space and time right now and need to get home in order to make sure my children get milk for their breakfast.

The job offered was simple. Rebekah was to be married to the son of the chief rabbi of the Paris synagogue. The ancient Torah was part of her dowry, as was a sum of money that made D’Eglise’s eyes glisten. The Doctor wished to engage D’Eglise to deliver all three items—the girl, the scroll, and the money—safely to Paris; the Doctor himself would travel there for the wedding, but later in the month, as his business in Bordeaux detained him.

Sheman was supposed to keep the time machine secret, but he broke the rules. He took his friend Penny back in time to ancient Egypt.

My tempograph is showing an anomaly! The Pirate Cats have gone back in time to change it as they please!

But as time goes by, at birthdays or other annual markers, people begin to notice you aren’t getting any older.

Nisreen: I want to know how it is different and why he wanted to change it. Don’t you see? That’s how the world was supposed to be.

Ramazan: Assuming no one else had gone back and changed things before he did.

“I only intended to make a small inter-dimensional field, so to speak,” the professor continued. “Just large enough to encompass my house. At first, it worked. The field or bubble drew the enormous energy required to create the bridge from the fifth dimension itself and folded space-time.

“But then something went wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong. The bubble expanded. It kept growing, drawing more and more power from the fifth dimension. I shut off the machine, but it was of no use. The field had become independent of the device.

“Eventually, the bubble stabilized. From what I can tell, we’re stuck in an inter-dimensional, space-time feedback loop.”

Morgan’s telling us to take Ben to Frog Creek. To our time.

♫ I traveled back in time and love has come my way. ♫

Attends . . . si maman n'épouse pas papa, je vais pas naître. Je viens de me tuer.

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Wait . . . if Mom never marries Dad, I won’t be born. I just killed myself.