The Time Machine

by H.G. Wells

“any real body must have extension in four directions: it must have Length, Breadth, Thickness, and—Duration.

our consciousness moves intermittently in one direction along the latter from the beginning to the end of our lives.”

There is no difference between Time and any of the three dimensions of Space except

that our consciousness moves along it.

One might invest all one’s money, leave it to accumulate at interest, and hurry on ahead!” “To discover a society,” said I, “erected on a strictly communistic basis.”

Then I noted the clock. A moment before, as it seemed, it had stood at a minute or so past ten; now it was nearly half-past three!

There were no hedges, no signs of proprietary rights, no evidences of agriculture; the whole earth had become a garden.

Strength is the outcome of need; security sets a premium on feebleness.

Things that are now mere dreams had become projects deliberately put in hand and carried forward. And the harvest was what I saw!

improve our favourite plants and animals—and how few they are—gradually by selective breeding; now a new and better peach, now a seedless grape, now a sweeter and larger flower,

our knowledge is very limited;

Some day all this will be better organized, and still better.

The ideal of preventive medicine was attained.

The difficulty of increasing population had been met, I guessed, and population had ceased to increase.

Hardship and freedom: conditions under which the active, strong, and subtle survive and the weaker go to the wall; conditions that put a premium upon the loyal alliance of capable men, upon self-restraint, patience, and decision.

It had moved, and was hid, only in space. But then, where could it be?

The thudding sound of a machine below grew louder and more oppressive.

They say life is a dream, a precious poor dream at times—but I can’t stand another that won’t fit.

But I am beginning now to fear that I must wait a lifetime. The Time Traveller vanished three years ago. And, as everybody knows now, he has never returned.

Or did he go forward, into one of the nearer ages, in which men are still men, but with the riddles of our own time answered and its wearisome problems solved?

gratitude and a mutual tenderness still lived on in the heart of man.