Filby

'You can show black is white by argument,' said Filby, 'but you will never convince me.'

'You mean to say that that machine has travelled into the future?' said Filby. 'Into the future or the past—I don't, for certain, know which.'

“Is not that rather a large thing to expect us to begin upon?” said Filby, an argumentative person with red hair.

“There I object,” said Filby.

“Don’t follow you,” said Filby.

Filby became pensive.

Filby became pensive. “Clearly,” the Time Traveller proceeded, “any real body must have extension in four directions: it must have Length, Breadth, Thickness, and—Duration. But through a natural infirmity of the flesh, which I will explain to you in a moment, we incline to overlook this fact. There are really four dimensions, three which we call the three planes of Space, and a fourth, Time. There is, however, a tendency to draw an unreal distinction between the former three dimensions and the latter, because it happens that our consciousness moves intermittently in one direction along the latter from the beginning to the end of our lives.”