Quotes About Chronicle

See Chapter 37 for more on BC/BCE and AD/CE.

Time catches everyone. Sooner or later, it gets everybody.

To me the most important thing is a good story, though I know how cliche that sounds.

would be a great war and more worthy of relation than any that had preceded it.

I want a good story, with a beginning, middle and end.

Time cannot be expanded, accumulated, mortgaged, hastened, or retarded.

Time whereof the memory of man runneth not to the contrary.

In the many-mansioned house of Alternate History, I occupy a small corner. The trio of what-ifs I chronicled in 'Then Everything Changed' all begin with tiny, highly plausible twists of fate that lead to hugely consequential shifts in history.

Such bickerings to recount, met often in these our writers, what more worth is it than to chronicle the wars of kites or crows flocking and fighting in the air?

We all live within time. It rules us.

Combine two words, Myth and History. What do you get? Mystery.

Chronicles are not explanatory of what they record.

STORY" is more than half of the word "HISTORY". And that's no accident.

...all histories, which are a kind of distilled newspapers...

In documentaries, there's a truth that unfolds unnaturally, and you get to chronicle it. In narratives, you have to create the situations so that the truth will come out.

We write the history of our time.

I'm self-deprecating, but I'm an artist, too. I have to write new songs to chronicle stuff for myself. I write a song like 'Middle Age' or 'Responsibility' or 'I Just Work Here,' and it's about how bleak life can be. But it's real.

The teller of the tale is nothing compared to the tale itself.

The 1980 George W. S. Trow essay "Within the Context of No Context" argued that "the work of television is to establish false contexts and to chronicle the unraveling of existing contexts.

The strange mirage-shimmer standing in for death should not appear too soon in the chronicle and yet it should permeate the first amorous scenes.

The best record of what befell the explorers comes from the pen of Peter Martyr

Thus did the year one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five conduct their Greatnesses, and myriads of small creatures—the creatures of this chronicle among the rest—along the roads that lay before them.

Lives do not have plots, only biographies do.

For many feverish years he was burdened with the sensation, an ancient one to be sure, that the incredible sprawl of human history was no more than a pathetically partial record of an infinitely vast and shadowed chronicle of universal metamorphoses. How much greater, then, was the feeling that his own pathetic history formed a practically invisible fragment of what itself was merely an obscure splinter of the infinite. Somehow he needed to liberate himself from the dungeon cell of his life.