In Einstein's equation, time is a river. It speeds up, meanders, and slows down. The new wrinkle is that it can have whirlpools and fork into two rivers. So, if the river of time can be bent into a pretzel, create whirlpools and fork into two rivers, then time travel cannot be ruled out.

The principal reason for the universe's poker face is that its constituents are far away. Stars careen through space, and galaxies spin at speeds thousands of times faster than a jet plane. But given their distance, you'd need the patience of Job to notice much change in their appearance or position.

While we are postponing, life speeds by.

Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing.

If I were to ask you to open two novels, and compare the circumstances of each protagonist, asking you to chose who is "better," you may find this ridiculous. You may tell me these characters have been forged in two different worlds, around different people, and they each have their own inherent purposes. They're traveling different paths, and they'll traverse their paths at different speeds, as their meant to. Great. So as such, never again compare yourself to another.

Basically, I have two speeds.... Hostile or smart-aleck. Your choice.

I am unable to believe in a God susceptible to prayer. I simply haven't the nerve to imagine a being, a force, a cause which keeps the planets revolving in their orbits, and then suddenly stops in order to give me a bicycle with three speeds.

I am now 33 years old, and it feels like much time has passed and is passing faster and faster every day. Day to day I have to make all sorts of choices about what is good and important and fun, and then I have to live with the forfeiture of all the other options those choices foreclose. And I'm starting to see how as time gains momentum my choices will narrow and their foreclosures multiply exponentially until I arrive at some point on some branch of all life's sumptuous branching complexity at which I am finally locked in and stuck on one path and time speeds me through stages of stasis and atrophy and decay until I go down for the third time, all struggle for naught, drowned by time. It is dreadful. But since it's my own choices that'll lock me in, it seems unavoidable--if I want to be any kind of grownup, I have to make choices and regret foreclosures and try to live with them.

While we are postponing life speeds by.

Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense dancing.