Outside of Time

The Planck-Bohr quantum theory that the energy of a body cannot vary continuously, but only by a certain finite amount, or exact multiples of this amount, had been the key that unlocked the door.

The alternative was staggaring more than my facilities could hold or deal with—that my cousin, sleeping calmly in that bed, had left our spance and time for a period of four years, and that before this complete disappearance, as a preliminary to it, by way of training possibly, he had escaped our time, while still occupying our space, for a far longer period, for some twenty-five years. 

Time’s all mixed up. It’s as if the universe were the rim of a great wheel, whirling through Time. As if, somehow, we have left that rim, shot inward along different spokes whose outer ends are different years, far apart, and reached the wheel’s axis where all the year-spokes join. The center point of the hub, that doesn’t move at all through Time, because it is the center. Where there is no Time. Where the past and the present and the future are all one. A land, in some weird other dimension, where Time stands still.

The Palace of Immortality was built in an eddy of time, the only known Reverse, or Immortality, Drift in the Earth Time Stream

And then the terminator’s claws began to manufacture their own varieties and attack Soviets and Westerners alike. The only humans that survived were those at the UN base on Luna.

Yes, I am a genius . . . and that’s why I’m about to become fabuously rich! Just as soon as I finish my greatest invention . . .

We approach the time-space continuum of ancient Babylonia— It is there that the book which we seek was created milenniums [sic] ago!

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

After a man dies, he meets God, upon which he doesn’t find out the meaning of life, but he does discover something about time and the meaning of the universe.

translate

Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?

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.

“There’s nothing to return to.” Eliot’s knuckles bulged at the seams, but she didn’t yell. “When the Fade destroys a moment, it’s lost. Forever.”

Tony, there was no other way.

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.

If we had the time—well, actually, we do, because there isn’t any time here, just like there isn’t any space, except what we’ve been creating by being here, all this staring around—that’s making nothing into something.

Equally in the grip of dread and amazement, David Thorne began to awaken to a previously unthought-of truth, the ramifications of which were devastating and numberless.

Dad was right. It is just a pile of stones with a gift shop.

I’m not cut out to be a time traveling bandit.

We don’t know if we can change time or effect it at all.”