“This is how the time moves - an hour here, a day somewhere, and then it's night and then it's morning. A clock ticking on a shelf. A small child running to school, a father coming home. Time moves over us and past us, and the feeling of lips pressed against lips fades into memory. A picture yellows at its edges. A phone rings in an empty room.”

“Clockwork could not run counter to its nature. The seconds, minutes, and hours moved only forward. Patient, precise, and unstoppable. Memory was an indulgence, an illusion that broke like a wave upon the juggernaut of time. The past remained the past.”

“What a wonderful time it is for each of us to do his or her small part in moving the work of the Lord on to its magnificent destiny.”

“There is a night that never comes to an end....The clock of the world turns under its own shadow. Midnight is a moving place, hurtling around the planet at a thousand miles an hour like a dark knike, cutting slices of daily bread off the endless loaf of Time.”

“It was awful, but it's over. And now I feel like I'm finally coming up for air.""Yes, well, it's been a very stressful time for both of us," said Leonard."How has it been stressful for you? said Holly."I had that move."Holly just looked at him."What," said Leonard."You moved apartments" said Holly.”

“there're times when i suspect that the mind has a mind of its own. it shows us pictures. pictures of the past and the might-one-day-be. this mind's mind exerts its own will, too, and has its own voice”