39 things from this book went into her brain. Here are the first 6.
In The Time Machine, Wells has the Time Traveller ask whether we are as free as we assume. We move easily in two directions, but gravity limits us, and balloons changed what had seemed fixed.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller answers Filby's refusal to be persuaded by asking him plainly what reason he has. Asking someone to name the objection gets further than arguing past it.
In The Time Machine, Wells has the Time Traveller answer doubt with a demonstration rather than more talk. For a business, showing the result often persuades better than explaining it.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller asks his guests to inspect the table and the model for trickery before he starts it. Inviting people to check your work for themselves is a fair way to earn trust.
In The Time Machine, the Medical Man says to wait for the common sense of the morning before believing a bold claim made late at night. Sleeping on a striking idea is a sound test of it.
Wells observes that people trust a man whose motives they can see, and distrust one who makes hard things look too easy. Being too smooth can cost a person credibility.
In The Time Machine, the Editor and the Journalist mock the story before they have heard it. Wells shows how quickly ridicule can take the place of listening.
Before telling his story, the Time Traveller asks his listeners not to interrupt, admitting that most of it will sound like lying. Asking for a full hearing before judgement is a fair request.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller accepts a risk calmly in the workshop, then in the moment his nerves get the better of him and he hurries the lever. Wells shows how a choice made under strain can undo careful planning.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller pockets the machine's levers while he is still learning whom he can trust. Keeping hold of what you cannot afford to lose, while you find out about people, is a sound instinct.
Wells has the Time Traveller judge a whole people from one odd exchange, then catch himself. A first impression can mislead, so it is worth testing it before deciding.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller learns a strange language by pointing at concrete things, starting with a single fruit, then a handful of nouns. Starting from what you can point to is a practical way to learn anyone.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller calls his explanation simple and plausible, then admits that most wrong theories are too. A neat story that fits what you see is not the same as a true one.
After a night of panic, the Time Traveller looks at his situation in plain daylight and asks himself what he will do if the worst is true. He then resolves to be calm, learn the local ways and plan from there.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller grabs a frightened man in anger, then lets go when he sees the horror on the man's face. A flash of temper can cost more than it gains, and another person's fear can stop you.
Telling himself to be patient, the Time Traveller resolves to watch the world and learn its ways before making guesses about it. He also laughs at the trap of his own making.
The Time Traveller's first explanation for the air shafts is obvious, and he later says it was absolutely wrong. An obvious answer deserves a test before you trust it.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller drops his tidy theory of a comfortable, decaying future once it fails to explain what he sees. He admits he has no other, which is an honest way to stay with the evidence.
The Time Traveller had expected no gratitude from the child he pulled from the river, and he was wrong. Expecting the worst of people can blind you to what they will give back.
Absorbed in his large problems, the Time Traveller only slowly realises what Weena's friendship means to him. Important things can arrive quietly while your attention is somewhere else.
The Time Traveller sees that the people dread the dark, yet still ignores what that fear is telling him. Noticing a clue and then failing to act on it is a common way to go wrong.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller feels fear rise, then reminds himself of what he knows about the world and steps forward to speak. His voice comes out harsh, but he goes on. Courage often looks like that.
When the Time Traveller presses Weena with questions and she bursts into tears, he drops the subject at once to comfort her. Noticing someone's distress and easing off is a decent instinct, even when you want an answer.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller admits his urge to explore a new palace was really a way of putting off the descent he dreaded. Noticing your own excuses for delay is an honest habit.
The Time Traveller admits he set out assuming the people of the future would be far ahead of him in everything, so he came unprepared. An untested assumption can leave you without the basics.
The Time Traveller burns through most of his matches without thinking to save them, and only notices when he is in the dark. Resources you take for granted are the ones to plan for.
Before facing the strange world, the Time Traveller decides he must first secure a place where he can sleep. Making your base safe gives you the confidence to meet what lies outside it.
The Time Traveller guessed the walk at seven or eight miles and it was nearly eighteen. He had judged it on a misty afternoon, when distances seem shorter. Plan for the harder conditions, not the ones you judged in good weather.
Under the night stars, the Time Traveller's troubles seem to shrink. Stepping back to look at the wide view can put a private worry back in proportion.
The Time Traveller tries to hold scorn for a decaying people, but cannot keep it up, because they still share enough of his humanity to claim his sympathy. Contempt is hard to sustain once you look closely at people.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller lingers over fascinating machines while the afternoon runs out and his urgent needs go unmet. Pleasant curiosity can crowd out the work that matters most right now.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller nearly wrecks his own plan. Carried away by excitement, he strikes a case that might have blown up everything he hoped to gain. Eagerness that is not checked can destroy the very thing you want.
Worn out and irritable, the Time Traveller ignores a feeling of warning and pushes on through the wood. Pressing ahead when you are depleted is often where poor judgement creeps in.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller keeps striking at his attackers until he sees they are helpless in the firelight, and then he stops. Knowing when a threat has passed is part of keeping your own humanity.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller plans a clean escape, then overlooks one small thing: his matches only light on the box. Check the ordinary details before you count on the plan.
Having once fallen headlong, the Time Traveller slows right down when he tries to return, moving cautiously and bringing his pace under control. Letting a painful lesson change how you approach the next attempt is sound.
In The Time Machine, the Time Traveller admits he hardly believes his own story. Saying plainly where your doubts lie can earn more trust than insisting you are certain.
The narrator cannot dismiss the wild story because the teller is so calm and sober about it, and he goes to see the evidence for himself. A plain, measured account can earn more belief than a dramatic one.
In the epilogue of The Time Machine, Wells's narrator says that even if the future looks bleak, we must live as though it were not so. A grim outlook is no excuse for giving up on the work in front of you.
