Circa AD 1970 to 1999

In this, I have even been compelled to manipulate in the matter of time! I must not only defeat and annihilate the minions of Moyen, but must work from a mathematical absurdity, so that at the moment of impact that moment itself must become part of the past, sufficiently remote to remove the monsters at such distance from the earth that not even the mighty genius of Moyen can return them!

Well, her boss, Dr. X-10, is trying to bring a man to life who’s been dead fifty years!

For a space of roughly ten ages we have been asleep, in a state of suspended animation, in that mighty mausoleum known as your Moon.

I can be the biggest! I can rob, murder . . . do anything! Then all I have to do is jump on my bike an’ presto, I’m 40 years in the future.

Now! Now to make a halfway decent world! Max Alben pulled the little red switch toward him.

flick!

Now! Now to make a halfway interesting world! Mac Albin pulled the little red switch toward him.

flick!

You haven’t a prison record yet. But you will have . . . unless you let us help you!

His face was pallid, because he spend little time in the sun, andhis speech rather overbred, his mentors from the future having carefully eradicated all current vulgarities.

When I opened you, I found a mess. I sent for the Chief of Surgery while I got the baby out, then we held a consultation with you on the table—and worked for hours to salvage what we could. You had two full sets of organs, both immature, but with the female set well enough developed for you to have a baby. They could never be any use to you again, so we took them out and rearranged things so that you can develop properly as a man.

In what time period will you find yourselves when you land at your particular destinatoin!

Maybe I’ll even be given rights to 6_G as a reward!

There’s a project. A U.S. government project I guess you’d have to call it. Secret, naturally; as what isn’t in government these days? In my opinion, and that of a handful of others, it’s more important than all the nuclear, space-exploration, satellite, and rocket programs put together, though a hell of a lot smaller. I tell you right off that I can’t even hint what the project is about. And believe me, you’d never guess.

Given the power to alter the future, have we the right to use it?

I tossed the few bits of gravel and did the thing that had never been done, ever in my life.

I have come unstuck in time.

Which sounds more fantastic? That someone would take the trouble of composing an entire fictional edition of the Times setting it in type printing it and having it delivered or that through some sort of fluke of the fourth dimension we’ve been allowed a peek at next week’s newspaper?

Il veicolo aveva bisogno di una messa a punto! Comunque, siamo sulla “strada” giusta! Tenetevi forte!

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Keep your seat belts buckled at all times! In the unlikely event of a water landing, your seat cushion doubles as a flotation device.

Am I supposed to tell you a lot of diverting stories? Will I have to serve you six months out of the year, forevermore? Is there some precious object I’m obliged to bring you from the bottom of the sea? Maybe you have a riddle that I’m supposed to answer.

You see, Dad and Lewis are trying to get it together, to secretly transfer a lot of young people into the future, bypassing the eco-crisis or whatever it is. Start a new civilization.

Look, you gotta be kidding. I wanna go back to sleep! If I don't get at least 600 years, I'm grouchy all day.

Allosaurus stopped as the water rushed over his feet. They could see the bulk of him, his neck and heavy legs; his tail that was flattenedon the sides. He was big as a full grown tree. Then he turned and Joe saw his teeth. They were jagged as steak knives.

There’s an infinity of worlds, Elizabeth, side by side, worlds in which all possible variations of every possible event take place. Worlds in which you and I are happily married, in which you and I have been married and divorced, in which you and I don’t exist, in which you exist and I don’t, in which we meet and loathe one another, in which—in which—do you see, Elizabeth, there's a world for everything, and I’ve been traveling from world to world.

I can tell you that the things you have seen and explained with reason could fit the story of Taliesin, though your sister would rather not hear it.

Timothy spoke. “Are you there? In 1536?” He avoided using Andrew’s name. If there was to be an answer, any name would be unfamiliar at the moment. “Do you wish to tell me, my friend, what you see?”

He didn’t tell you that we do time research here? That you’re going to travel back in time to 1871?

Sharpie, you have just invented multiperson solipsism. I didn’t think that was mathematically possible.

I remember what someone once said; I think it was Einstein or somebody like that. He compared time to a winding river, with all of us in a boat drifting along between two high banks. And we can’t see the future beyond the next curve or the past beyond the curves in back of us, but it’s all still there, as real as the moment around us. To which I now add my own theory . . . that you can’t drive into the past in a modern car because there were no modern cars back then, and you can’t drive into 1926 along a four-lane superhighway, but my car and I—the way I felt about it anyway—were literally rejected that night by our own time.

He thought she wouldn’t answer but finally she said, “What if I can’t go back? What if I have to live out Brandy’s life? She lives an awfully long time, Corbin.”

Now shall one king rise up against another. And there shall be bloodshed throughout the whole world, fighting between the devil, his kingdom, and the kingdom of light.

Well, in principle, it utilizes a electromagnetic force field to molecularly reconstruct the space-time continuum.

And the interview was a great success. The old master used the hundred or so questions as takeoff points for truly masterful illuminations. It really was the archeological-historical coup of the century.

Steve, you know what this is, don’t cha? It’s a time-space warp.

Ninety years ago I was a freak; today I am an amateur.

Ah, agony in a tearing that made him feel, for the first time, every particle of his body as it screamed in pain.

Sharpie, you have just invented multiperson solipsism. I didn’t think that was mathematically possible.

Today is December 7, 1941. I’m sure we are all aware of the significance of this date in this place in history. We are going to fight a battle that was lost before most of you were born. This time, with God’s help, it’s going to be different. . . . Good Luck.

Me, thought the young man. Why, that old man is . . . me.

Come back to me.

This was the message received by a dozen or so experts in the "time attempters" field:

"I have succeeded in establishing a creeping time-satellite or time-shuttle at my estate of Moonwick near Lunel in the Herault Department of the Peoples Republic of France. If you are really experts in your field, you will appreciate the importance of this. From this time-shuttle, which is just beyond the ‘shoal’ of all of you to whom I am sending this message, it will be possible for you to launch genuine time probes. I am sending this to a dozen or so and I hope for acceptance from at least five. I must have a matched set of at least five. Some soon. A very little bit after ‘soon’ will be too late for me to transmit the shuttle to you. Bring ideas only. Everything else for frugal and break-through living is provided. You will receive various transportation chits and enabling papers. Peter Luna.”

The World Courier Service (“No questions asked. Messages carried anywhere or anywhen in the world”) delivered these messages to the dozen or so persons who were experts in the time field. And some of the people gave assent and some didn’t. So, the next day, the Courier Service delivered airline tickets, train tickets, and International Taxi Coupons to five of the experts who had agreed to go to Moonwick.

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.

Time is said to be the fourth dimension, but it differs from the other three in one conspicuous way—our consciousness moves along it. From past to present only, alas. Time itselfdoes not flow, no more than, say, width can flow. Our minds flicker from one instant of time to the next. This analogy was my starting point. I reasoned that if consciousness can move in one direction, it can move in the other direction as well. It took me fifty years to work out the details, however, and make what I call a flashback possible.

You shot it. What a bunch of dumb sons of bitches. You shot it—a machine, you butt-heads!

Ray, help! Larry! It’s me!

What can I do to save us from ourselves? How to save my friends, my city, my state, my country, the entire world from this obsession with doom? Well, it was in my library late one night that my hand, searching along shelves, touched at last on an old and beloved book by H. G. Wells. His time device called, ghostlike, down the years. I heard! I understood. I truly listened. Then I blueprinted. I built. I traveled [. . .]

Navy owes me 40 years back pay.

May I pass along my congratulations for your great interdimensional breakthrough. I am sure, in the miserable annals of the Earth, you will be duly enshrined.

Kyle: [to Sarah at the Tech-Noir Club] Come with me if you want to live.

Trentatré, trentatré e trentatré!

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Thirty-three, thirty-three, and thirty-three.

Love cancels all curses, love breaks all spells. Love is a magic greater than any wizard or witch, warlock or shaman.

Ralph? The bully. When I was a kid, he used to wait for me on the corner every day.

Next Saturday night, we’re sending you . . . back to the future!

Now that sounds like we’re dealing with a time-space warp.

“I said, have you got something going,” she repeated, still with the accent—the accent of my own time.

Well, Mr Snelgrove, I happen to know that in the future I will not have the slightest use for algebra, and I speak from experience.

McCoy: You realize that by giving him the formula you’re altering the future.
Scotty: Why? How do we know he didn’t invent the thing?

. . . мы сможем в будущем, и не таком, господа-товарищи, далеком, заснять всю жизнь Пушкина скрытой камерой, записать его гол . . . представляете, какое это будет счастье, когда каждый школьник сможет услышать, как Пушкин читает собственные стихи!

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. . . we will be able in the future, and, gentlemen-comrades, not such a distant one, to photograph Pushkin’s entire life with a hidden camera, record his voice . . . imagine how wonderful it will be when every schoolboy will be able to hear Pushkin read his own poetry!

What if Cole came back to set off a chain of events that would eventually destroy the one man who stood in his way?

Итак, на фотографии был бесспорно я, и мое будущее лицо мне нравилось и подходило, но чем же оно тогда было так искажено?

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So, it was undeniably me in the photograph, and I liked and suited my future face, but why was it so distorted then?

It should have ended there, Gordon knew, but it did not end. Where are you, Anna? he thought at the world being swampted in cold rain. Why hadn’t shecome forward, attended the funeral, turned in the papers?

One city attempted to escape their onslaught by unraveling the secrets of time and travelling back in a desperate search for a safer age . . . they succeeded and time was their friend until the arrival yet again of their relentless enemy.

He was a clerk.

My beauties. Not alive, but alive. Dead, but not dead. Clay and then liquid rubber. Yes, oh yes. I moved you and then frame by frame photographed you.

We have run into an unusual situation, sir: There are people on board. Frozen.

I hear you were having drinks with the butler the other night. Now, you know that sort of thing leads to anarchy.

Think how much power you’d need for all that!

1. Travel is possible only into the past.
2. The object transported will return to exactly the time and place of departure.
3. It is not possible to bring objects from the past to the present.
4. Actions in the past cannot change the present.

Most excellent!

One end of this string represents your birth, the other end your death. You tie the ends together, and your life is a loop. Ball the loop, and the days of your life touch each other out of sequence, therefore leaping to one point in the string to another . . .

Don’t ya see, Al? I’m here to give Donna and I a second chance.

If you build it, they will come.

A grand grimore? Here? Now?

If I finish it, will you come?

For one thing, paradoxes can occur. Say you build a time machine, go backwards in time and murder your father when he was ten years old. That means you were never born. And if you were never born, how did you build the time machine? Paradox! It's the possibility of wiping out your own existence that makes most people rule out time-travel. Still, why not? If you were careful, you could do it.

Disco’s not gonna last forever. I got a feeling it’s probably gonna die in a couple of years.

The time-traveling is just too dangerous. Better that I devote myself to study the other great mystery of the universe—women!

The cockpit lights went out, leaving only the whirl of kaleidoscopic colors from the instrument panel. His ship went into a spiral, tumbling end over end like a stone fired from a slingshot. Now the light was white, hot and brilliant. Instinctively he threw up an arm to shield his eyes. The sudden crushing pressure on his chest left him helpless to do more than gasp for breath.

And now he stood and wondered. If he dug for it, he would come upon the same box. The box that he had left with his parents only days before. The box would exist here, beneath his feet, just as it existed in his own time. As he existed.

If he dug it up now and carried it back to his ship, it would not be there for him to find on that high summer day in the twenty-third century. And if that was true, how could he be here, in this time, to dig it up at all?

I’m from the future and the past and other temporalities that you can’t comprehend. But all you need to know is that yiou must not write this Hemingway story. If you do, I or someone like me will have to kill you.

Doc: [blowing train whistle] I’ve wanted to do that my whole life!

Tucker: Where’d you learn to shoot like that?
Billy: You might say I learned from the best.
Tucker: And who might that be?
Billy: You’d never believe me.

Channel Six, our foremost epistomological anthrosociologist has redlined and outlined you for a mission back in time.

We are one, the same person: Jonathan Hughes.

Eckhart saw Hell too. He said the only thing that burns in Hell is the part of you that won’t let go of life, your memories, your attachments. They burn them all away, but they’re not punishing you, he said, they’re freeing your soul. So the way he sees it, if you’re frightened of dying and . . . and you’re holding on, you’ll see devils tearing your life away. But if you’ve made your peace, then the devils are really angels, freeing you from the earth. It’s just a matter of how you look at it, that's all. So don’t worry, okay? Okay?

The man you seek is in this world no longer. You must travel to another time to find him.

The T-800: [to Sarah at the Pescadero State Hospital] Come with me if you want to live.

Look, after we get away from this guy, we use the booth. We time travel back to before the concert and set up the things we need to get him now.

Old Doug: Doug, Doug. . . . Come on out and play.

So this will be the last time we do Groundhog together.

They’re back there in the past, trampling around, changing things, aren’t they? They don’t know it. They’re just living their happy lives, but changing small events. Mostly trivial, with no important effects. But every once in a while the effect of some small changed event moves on down to the—

If you can’t change anything because it’s already happened, you may as well smell the flowers.

You hold it and your surroundings become whatever decade you think of.

I don’t know how I would handle living back then. You know, I wonder what it was like during World War II.

I hope this is the one where she stomps on the grapes.

Oh, honey, you can go any time. Disco’s gonna last forever.

I wish every day was Christmas.

The doors opened and students backed in, pointedly not looking at Bob as they took their seats.

Larado: Your orders, sir? [pause] Sir, your orders?
Commander Taggart: Activate the Omega 13. [To be continued . . .]

Well, why didn’t ya just ask? The time machine is down the hall and to the left.

I wanna be thirty and flirty and thriving.

Hang on! That’s not possible. Ancient Runes is at the same time as Divination. You’d have to be in two classes at once.

This is the part where I’m transported through time and everything goes back to the way it was, like I’d never become Santa at all.

If I had the power to decide never to meet him again, I reasoned, surely I had the power to change the course of the relationship for the better.

I’m certain I didn’t send myself any mail recently, but then again, I have plans to do so in the near future—or near past, I suppose.

So if they had gotten home five minutes before they left, like those ladies promised they would, then they would have seen themselves get back. Before they left.

Yes, exactly. You step on a bug and the fucking Internet is never invented.

He looked at the sole red logo and decided it was the on button. He thought about where he’d like to be, and pushed.

Patrick, with this time machine, we can go back to the past and make our young selves wiser!

It’s too easy for me to say the wrong thing today, and if I do, we may never meet at all

I, uh, digitized the actual footage taken from the night. I, uh, cropped and lightened the image.

We came by the raft dishonestly. We’d only meant to do a little fishing. It was cool and nice under the big willow with its whips trailing over the water. Christ, it was a scorcher of a day. The whole town must have fallen asleep, along with Jim and me. When we finally did wake, if we ever did, the raft was too far along in space and time to return it. We could no longer reverse ourselves, our motions in all five dimensions, than fly to the moon.

AAPL, AMZN, GOOG, NFLX

About four years from now, most of the human race will be wiped out by a plague, a virus. We know it’s because of a man named Leland Frost. I have to find him.

—from “Splinter” [s01e01]

Tell me something I can hold onto forever and never let go.

Smoke billows into a bright blue sky scarred by a rip in the heavens—what we’ll come to know as . . . The Rift

When your dad was younger, he had a best friend, a boy called Red. Red disappeared down that well.

Alise: You died ten years ago.
Darius: I was born ten years ago.

Soon after her arrival, light flashed like a dome over the town. When it had dissipated, they were in a new location—and a new time. Now, just like the other citizens, she was a woman out of place and out of time.

Science fiction. She thought the journal was filled with tales, like her Doctor Who or Heather’s Star Trek shows.

All five Machines had limitations, but the hardest to surmount was what travelers call the Long Four Years. Wormholes only opened for people who remained within twenty kilometers of a Machine for at least 1,680 days.

Last year? How in the hell did she have these keys in 1988?

Grace: [to Dani and Diego at the car assembly plant] Come with me or you’re dead in the next 30 seconds.

Do I ever find any kind of stability? Or do I live life year after year like some kind of existential hobo?

[. . .] the bubble could transfer to a flux capacitor in a DeLorean, and we could use the car to travel back to the future.

Hazel to Five: If you want to live, come with me.”

Santa: [shaking head] Only Belsnickel would power a time machine with triple-A’s.

You come to the conclusion that you can correct everything if you stop yourself before you steal the time machine.

I don't understand this power, but I will.

Some days it’s hard to believe that there’s not something wrong with the lettuce.

I’ve been chasing him for years and forever. Spinning through time and space without a sail.

Appears to be a standard sequence violation. Branches growing at a stable rate and slope. Variant identified.

Eileen: She absolutely loved it here.
Elena: Are you sure?

I might be you, but I’m not a moron.

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.

Mustafa Kemal 16 Mayıs günü o gemiye sağ salim binemezse Kurtsuluşı Savaşı başlamayacak. Cumhuriyet kurulmayacak. Türkiye diye bir ülke olmayacak.

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If Mustafa Kamal doesn’t board that ship on May the 16^th, the War of Independence won’t begin, the Republic won’t be founded, and Turkey will never come to be!

“I know it’s your birthday,” Leonard said. “You’ve made me watch Sixteen Candles enough times to ensure that I wouldn’t let this one slide.”

Well, someone killed our mothers, so we shouldn’t exist, but clearly we do exist, and the universe can’t handle it, which is a problem.

But I heard everything, and I followed what was happening in the world.

He’s like the anti-Scrooge.

If your parents don’t get married and have kids, then basically you just have no life to go home to because everything woud be different. No one would have any idea who you are.