A short story is the ultimate close-up magic trick -- a couple of thousand words to take you around the universe or break your heart.
There are little pockets of old time in London, where things and places stay the same, like bubbles in amber,” she explained. “There’s a lot of time in London, and it has to go somewhere—it doesn’t all get used up at once.” “I may still be hung over,” sighed Richard. “That almost made sense.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects the idea that certain places in London preserve a sense of history and timelessness amidst the ever-changing city.
In this quote, Neil Gaiman explores the notion of time and its relationship with specific places in London. The imagery of 'bubbles in amber' suggests that although the world evolves, there are still enclaves where history is preserved, allowing for a deep connection with the past. The character's humorous realization of the complexity of this idea underlines the blend of nostalgia and the perception of time as a flowing entity that can be seemingly captured in certain places.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
During a speech on urban development, one might reference this quote to emphasize the importance of preserving historical areas.
More from Neil Gaiman
All quotes →Jesus. Low-Key Lyesmith," said Shadow. and then he heard what he was saying and he understood. "Loki," he said. "Loki Lie-smith." "You're slow," said Loki, "but you get there in the end." And his lips twisted into a scarred smile and the embers danced in the shadows of his eyes.
As a teenager I wrote to R.A. Lafferty. And he responded, too, with letters that were like R.A. Lafferty short stories, filled with elliptical answers to straight questions and simple answers to complicated ones.
The important thing to understand about American history, wrote Mr. Ibis, in his leather-bound journal, is that it is fictional, a charcoal-sketched simplicity for the children, or the easily bored.
Nothing’s changed. You’ll go home. You’ll be bored. You’ll be ignored. No one will listen to you, really listen to you. You’re too clever and too quiet for them to understand. They don’t even get your name right.
I like the stars. It's the illusion of permanence, I think. I mean, they're always flaring up and caving in and going out. But from here, I can pretend...I can pretend that things last. I can pretend that lives last longer than moments. Gods come, and gods go. Mortals flicker and flash and fade. Worlds don't last; and stars and galaxies are transient, fleeting things that twinkle like fireflies and vanish into cold and dust. But I can pretend.
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