Best 543 quotes in «time travel quotes» category

Make your sacred-life an eventful journey.

Make the most of your sacred life on earth.

Manage your time and life.

Malachite eyes sparkled, pale green in the light of the setting sun.

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.

Max caught the rapidly melting ice cream on his tongue. With his mouth half full, he said in a deliberately casual tone: "I'm going to write children's books. I've got a couple of ideas." [...] Max pulled his notebook from his back pocket and read aloud: "The old master magician was wondering when a brave girl might finally come along and dig him up from the garden where he had lain forgotten under the strawberries for a century and a half..." "Or the story of the little cow [...] the holy cow that always has to take the blame. I imagine that even the holy cow used to be a young calf once, before people started saying, 'holy cow, what did you say you want to be? A writer?' " Max grinned. "And another one about Claire, a girl who swaps bodies with her kitty cat." [...] "... and the one where little Bruno complains to the guardians of heaven about the family they lumbered him with... " [...] "... and when people's shadows go back to straighten their owners' childhoods out a bit..." Wonderful, thought Jean. I'll send my shadow back in time to straighten my life out. How tempting. How sadly impossible.

Matt was almost completely naked. A tattered loincloth and an ugly chain with a yellow diamond were his only apparel.

May God point the right road for your journey.

May my children, fear, know and walk with God.

May you find renewed energy, courage and hope to pursue new adventures.

May you find your path and travel on it.

May the Creator guide you in unfamiliar path.

No doubt you've experienced something similar in books, movies, novels–whatever you use as an excuse to get away, to suspend reality. Literary characters, like these projections, draw you in and cultivate feelings of friendship on your part. Although, no matter how much you learn about them, how much time you spend with them–how far you can see into their thoughts and words, how they interact with others, their looks, what they wear–they will never, ever know you.

Miraculous is divine.

Most girls prefer flowers over trees.' I brush my fingers on the petals." These orange flowers blossom quickly. Thay speak of passion. Of beauty." I take a witheting flower that had dropped to the ground and worry it between my fingers. "But they don't last; they wither so easily. Flowers have limited growth. A tree might not speak of passion but sturdiness. Yet it grows higher and lasts more. Some of these trees have been here before I was born and they'll be here once I'm gone.

My father says you're to steal me away. Is that true?" Her lovely blue eyes flashed with mischief. "Your father said that?" Rubbing the back of his neck, Declan met her eyes. "And what did you say about it?" She dropped her bold gaze. "I told him that nothing so exciting ever happens around here.

My fear for you outweighs my fear of him,” he said simply. “And I told you, didn’t I? If you left, I’d follow you.” But should you try to leave on your own, know that I will go to the ends of the earth to bring you back.

My final thought, before falling into the golden haze of time travel, was that these adventures on medieval Óshéanús had been the greatest days of any of my lives, past or future.

My lady, your mercy in this matter is beyond what I can understand. Adulteresses must be chased from their villages.

My mind has a time machine; it can travel back to the past when I close my eyes and in my dreams it travels to the future.

Nothing can replace confidence and single-minded pursuit of purpose.

My first thought was that a tornado had somehow picked me up and carried me off, like in the Wizard of Oz. No old witches pedaled by, and I didn't see any flying farm animals or chicken coops, and after a few agonizing minutes, I fell deep into unconsciousness again.

Never be afraid to travel on a new path.

No matter how long the journey takes, don’t give up. Keep travelling onwards.

Not everyone can decode a dream! Dreamers are those abled minds that can read the intent of the dream in terms of energy, frequency & vibration...!

Oh, this is not the time for us to get into that meshugenah debate again! Look, the point is that Jesus of Nazareth, who is a very big deal to the Boss, regardless of whatever metaphysically bewildering relationship they may have, has gone missing, on the eve of the single most important event in the history of Creation. The sentence parses, don’t look at me like that. And, through a comical series of events far too elaborate to detail here, you and I are going to be held directly responsible unless we figure out a way to fix this, and I mean yesterday! And I’m not being poetic, we’re angels, we can totally do that.

Okay, try this on for size, Tall, Dark and Handsome. I won't be born for almost seven hundred hundred years. How's that strike you?

Once I've mastered the art of pretending that I don't care what other kids think of me, I start to pay attention in class, discovering that I love library research for history term papers about ancient lands. It feels like a form of time travel.

One may never get to know how fast the time travels till the one gets in that position to race against the time.

Party lights hang over the street, yellow and red and green. Sadie stumbles over someone’s chair, but I’m ready for this and I catch her easily by the arm. “Sorry, clumsy,” she says. “You always were, Sadie. One of your more endearing traits.” Before she can ask about that I slip my arm around her waist. She slips hers around mine, still looking up at me. The lights skate across her cheeks and shine in her eyes. We clasp hands, fingers folding together naturally, and for me the years fall away like a coat that’s too heavy and too tight. In that moment, I hope on thing above all others: that she was not too busy to find at least one good man … She speaks in a voice almost too low to be heard over the music. But I hear her – I always did. “Who are you, George?” “Someone you knew in another life, honey.

One of the major problems encountered in time travel is not that of accidentally becoming your own father or mother. There is no problem involved in becoming your own father or mother that a broad-minded and well-adjusted family can’t cope with. There is no problem about changing the course of history—the course of history does not change because it all fits together like a jigsaw. All the important changes have happened before the things they were supposed to change and it all sorts itself out in the end.

On every travel, we saw beautiful landscapes.

Our thoughts are great place of voyage.

Past and future are the same, and we cannot change either, only know them more fully. My journey to the past had changed nothing, but what I had learned had changed everything, and I understood that it could not have been otherwise. If our lives are tales that Allah tells, then we are the audience as well as the players, and it is by living these tales that we receive their lessons.

People create all kind of fancy watches and clocks, never stopping to realize they're building monuments to the greatest of all thieves.

People from the military have been inside that thing. If I went back in time, I wouldn't necessarily be thinking geopolitically, but maybe they would. That has to be half the reason why they're funding us in the first place. Maybe there were earlier versions of history where Republicans didn't vote to pulp all those Andrew Jackson twenties and replace them with bills that had portraits of Reagan. Maybe in the first version of post-Point Zero history, insurgents in North and South Dakota didn't attempt to secede; maybe we weren't fighting enemies both here and in the Middle East. Or maybe there was a full-on civil war going on in the United States and the current state of affairs is an improvement. We don't know. We can't know. And we can't know the extent to which any of us, sitting here at this table, is responsible.

People say that a time machine can’t be invented, but they’ve already invented a device that can stop time, cameras are the world’s first time machines.

People say, 'Time heals all wounds.' That may be true, but relocating to an alternate reality can sure help too." -Excerpt from the journal of Dr. Harold Quickly, 1941

Perhaps the palms had been whispering warnings in the sultry breeze.

Perhaps we could fool them, but Bathsheba was entering into a place I couldn’t help her. It was a dark place filled with the result of one night of bad choices. I could feel it beginning to erupt. It was as if Bathsheba had been sitting on a mountain and like a volcano it was getting ready to explode.

Prologue When the ancient bards wove the tale of the great O’Quinlan clan in Navan, Eire, they foretold of destinies that would forever change the lives of these noble warriors. One might deem that it all began with the eldest male, yet, the story began with the youngest – a daughter. To protect Fiona O’Quinlan from the enemy of their clan, her brother, Desmond, sought out a Fenian Fae Warrior to escort her to safety during a fierce battle. However, as with any request to the Fae, all did not go as Desmond wished. The Fae had already set in motion their own plan, and their sister was sent to another time. The O’Quinlan clan would not be reunited with Fiona for many years. When they were, they were told her fate was destined with another – Alastair MacKay, a feared, and battle-scarred Dragon Knight. Though Desmond and his brothers eventually accepted their sister’s love for the MacKay, Desmond harbored lingering doubts over the match. And as one year bled into the next, Desmond’s anger at the MacKay grew. Unbeknown to Desmond, his time had come to fulfill the bardic prophecy and take his place as a ruling warrior. Furthermore, in order to step forward on his journey, he must relinquish the fury of the past and open his heart and mind to only one emotion. Love.

Prospective research looks forward in time to see how a group of individual change over time while retrospective research looks backward in time and attempts to reconstruct the conditions that led to the current situation.

Psychiatrist and Auschwitz survivor, Viktor Frankl, stated, "...man is by no means merely a product of heredity and environment. There is a third element: decision. Man ultimately decides for himself!

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.

Pursuit of desires, divine passions.

Rough palms cradled my face while my fingers gripped the pillow on either side of his. Lips, teeth, tongue, mingled together. I ate him up and didn’t let go until I had to come up for air.

Quotes from BEGINNINGS: Where A Life Begins.......... Life did not improve for Maria; it just became slowly less unbearable Alia’s mother was more than twice her age. Not yet old enough to be expected to die of old age but now no longer a woman with a future; except that which can be lived through her children and theirs. Her head told her that there was no justice but her heart was unconvinced. She was relieved that her soul no longer weighed as heavily as it had before, or maybe she had learned how to bear its weight a little more skillfully. At first she thought it was her son's spirit that spoke to her. But he was gone; and slowly she realized that the voice was coming from within her but was not her own. It was stronger and braver and, perhaps, even crueller, than she could be. It could only be coming from within her womb. It had to be the voice of her unborn child. "Maybe there is really no justice in the world; just survival and revenge," she said.

Raw, freezing magic detonated from her outstretched hand with the sound of a thousand thunderclaps.

Rebecca approached the causality violation chamber (too grand a name for such a faulty thing), placed her hand against its door, and closed her eyes, much as Philip had during its christening years ago. There was no response from the machine; no prophecy; no apology; no advice. It did not relay the news from other, brighter timelines. It did not tell her what would have transpired had she returned from yesterday's shopping trip a few hours later, or had she turned the steering wheel left instead of right two years ago, or had she not taken that first drink, or had she turned down any one of the thousands of drinks that had followed, or had she chosen not to respond to Philip's insistent and perhaps deliberately oblivious messages during the early days of their online courtship, or had her parents or her grandparents, or her great-grandparents never met. The machine's obstinate silence was all it had to offer; the message of that silence was that she had made her choices in life, and her choices had made her in return.

Regrets, it seems, are easy to realise when you're dying.