Quotes About Heat

Only where there is heat is there a distinction between past and future.

Only where there is heat is there a distinction between past and future. Thoughts, for instance, unfold from the past to the future, not vice versa—and, in fact, thinking produces heat in our heads. . . .

The origin of time may be similar to that of heat: it comes from averages of many microscopic variables. Let's see this in detail.

The difference between past and future only exists when there is heat.

Whenever you consider a phenomenon certifying the passage of time , it is through the production of heat that it does so. There is no preferred direction of time without heat.

At the precise moment when heat is produced, the process is irreversible: the past differs from the future. It is always heat and only heat that distinguishes the past from the future. This is universal. A burning candle is transformed into smoke, the smoke cannot transform into a candle-and a candle produces heat. A boiling hot cup of tea cools down and does not heat up: it diffuses heat. We live and get old: producing heat through friction.

the sun is using up its combustible hydrogen and will eventually exhaust it and extinguish. The sun too is getting older, and in fact produces heat. The moon also appears to orbit Earth unchangingly and always equal to itself, whereas in reality it is slowly moving away. This is because it raises tides, and the tides heat the sea a little, thus exchanging energy with the moon.

Stars burn as long as they have available hydrogen—their fuel—then die out. The remaining material is no longer supported by the pressure of the heat and collapses under its own weight. When this happens to a large enough star, the weight is so strong that matter is squashed down to an enormous degree, and space curves so intensely as to plunge down into an actual hole. A black hole.

hot, I was shivering. Billy, though,

I have slipped chile under your skin secretly wrapped in each enchilada hot and soothing carefully cut into bitefuls for you as a toddler increasing in power and intensity as you grew until it could burn forever

It's June and the city is ripe with meaningless fecal heat. It will be a different kind of hot in LA, the kind that made the Beach Boys all tan and giddy, a heat that doesn't harass you in the shade.

If the fire was too hot, you could hardly keep the pudding from scorching by tossing a handful of raisins in the pot.

Too much light can hurt the eyes, my friend, and fire burns.

even stone will crack and melt if a fire is hot enough.

It beat down on Ned's head, warm as blood and relentless as old guilts.

I know that eggs do well to stay out of frying pans.

The red priestess shuddered. Blood trickled down her thigh, black and smoking. The fire was inside her, an agony, an ecstasy, filling her, searing her, transforming her. Shimmers of heat traced patterns on her skin, insistent as a lover's hand.

Life is warmth and warmth is fire, and fire is God's and God's alone.

When the armorer opened the door, the blast of hot air that came through made Ned feel as though he were walking into a dragon's mouth. Inside, a forge blazed in each corner,

Of Calcination The First Gate. Calcination is the Purgation of our stone, Restoring also of his natural heat, Of radical humidity it looseth none, Inducing solution into our stone most meet After Philosophie I you behight Do, but not after the common guise With Suiphures and salts prepare in divers wise.

there came from the olive groves outside the fuchsia hedge the incessant shimmering cries of the cicadas. If the curious, blurring heat haze produced a sound, it would be exactly the strange, chiming cries of these insects.

It was the hottest hour of the day when even the cicadas seem to slow down and falter occasionally in their song. The black ants moved busily across the cloth, gathering the crumbs of our food.

Mother, scarlet with heat, trotted frantically around the kitchen making scones, cakes, apple turnovers, and brandysnaps, stews, pies, jellies, and trifles.

the incessant shimmering cries of the cicadas. If the curious, blurring heat haze produced a sound, it would be exactly the strange, chiming cries of these insects.