Stone Age (3.4 Ma to 3000 BC: Paleo/Epipaleo/Meso/Neo/Chalcolithic)

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.

“[. . .] This is an experiment in mental monism, you know, along the time-space continuum that forms material totality.”
I looked at Nicholas and, despite all my conversatons with him, I did not comprehend.

That evening, as he and Lois Lane stepped into the waiting room, Garney came out of his office and looked in.

To come to my point, Richard, I have for many years been very disgusted with the fact that all the human race—indeed every living organism—must waste a third of its life in sleep. Think what a race we’d be if we never slept!

It is the same in all we do. Our houses grow new and we dismantle them and stow the materials inconspicuously away, in mine and quarry, forest and field. Our clothes grow new and we put them off. And we grow new and forget and blindly seek a mother.

Thank you for awakening me and freeing me from my prison! Wait! I will not harm you! You are my friend! You will come with me!

“I wonder what killed it?” Hafton wondered curiously, cutting swiftly through the thick masses of mastodon meat.

We received a note telling us that unless we paid the sum of three million dollars this great city would be taken back to prehistoric days.

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

Events are the result of a complex. There are no single causes. That’s why it’s so hard to change history. If I went back to, say, the Middle Ages, and shot one of FDR’s Dutch forebears, he’ll still be born in the late nineteenth century—because he and his genes resulted fom the entire world of his ancestors, and there’d have been compensation. But evey so often, a really key event does occur. Some one happening is a nexus of so many world lines that its outcome is decisive for the whole future.

But she’d never push me around if we lived back in the time of the cavemen! No, siree! I’d be boss.

Spock! You’re reverting into your ancestors, five thousand years before you were born!

Most excellent!

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

She stroked the mammoth’s giant ear. “Bye, Lulu. Thank you,” she said.

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

And she was continually amazed at how easily everyone else accepted their situation, the blunt, apparently undeniable reality of the time slips, across a hundred and fifty years in her case, perhaps a million years or more for the wretched pithecine and her infant in their net cage.

Will they get it right? Will SpongeBob and Patrick get to see their superheroes in their super-prime?

“Don’t you see?” says Terry. “We’ll just travel back in time and get a permit for the treehouse.”

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

With sights on events his eyes have never seen, Arthur is ready for his new time machine.

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

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

translate

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

Lomua opened his eyes in an immaculate room with pastel walls and warm lights, feeling fully refreshed.

You’re right. We’ve got to help them, even if we are stuck in the Ice Age.

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