Herbert Wells

An an­imal per­fectly in har­mony with its en­vir­on­ment is a per­fect mech­an­ism.

There is no dif­fer­ence between Time and any of the three di­men­sions of Space ex­cept that our con­scious­ness moves along it.

There is no dif­fer­ence between Time and any of the three di­men­sions of Space ex­cept that our con­scious­ness moves along it

Our men­tal ex­ist­ences, which are im­ma­ter­ial and have no di­men­sions, are passing along the Time-Di­men­sion with a uni­form ve­lo­city from the cradle to the grave. Just as we should travel down if we began our ex­ist­ence fifty miles above the earth’s sur­face.”

in­can­des­cent

These figures will serve perhaps to give one some conception of the immense emptiness of space in which the drama of life goes on.

At times I suf­fer from the strangest sense of de­tach­ment from my­self and the world about me; I seem to watch it all from the out­side, from some­where in­con­ceiv­ably re­mote, out of time, out of space, out of the stress and tragedy of it all.

The fever of war that would presently clog vein and artery, deaden nerve and des­troy brain, had still to de­velop.

The sky was what is called a mack­erel sky—rows and rows of faint down-plumes of cloud, just tin­ted with the mid­sum­mer sun­set.

who shall dwell in these worlds if they be in­hab­ited? … Are we or they Lords of the World? … And how are all things made for man?
—Kepler, quoted in The An­a­tomy of Mel­an­choly