Tuesday, May 31, 2011

The Time Machine, by H.G. Wells

First Line:  The Time Traveller (for so it will be convenient to speak of him) was expounding a recondite matter to us.

Last Line:  But to me the future is still black and blank--is a vast ignorance, lit at a few casual places by the memory of his story. And I have by me, for my comfort, two strange white flowers --shrivelled now, and brown and flat and brittle--to witness that even when mind and strength had gone, gratitude and a mutual tenderness still lived on in the heart of man.

1 comment:

  1. The last line of this book was so deep and touching to both philosophy and the story itself I could barely fathom what I had read when I closed the book

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