The fact is, the Time Traveller was one of those men who are too clever to be believed: you never felt that you saw all round him; you always suspected some subtle reserve, some ingenuity in ambush, behind his lucid frankness.

It is the going out from oneself that is love and not the accident of its return. It is the expedition, whether it fail or succeed.

I never yet heard of a useless thing that was not ground out of existence by evolution sooner or later. Did you? And pain gets needless.

The crying sounded even louder out of doors. It was as if all the pain in the world had found a voice

It may be that we exist and cease to exist in alternations, like the minute dots in some forms of toned printing or the succession of pictures on a cinema film. It may be that reality is an illusion of movement in an eternal, static, multidimensional universe. We may be only a story written on the ground of the inconceivable; the pattern on a rug beneath the feet of the incomprehensible.

Advertising is legalized lying.

Sometimes, you have to step outside of the person you've been and remember the person you were meant to be. The person you want to be. The person you are.