Literary notes about hours (AI summary)
In literature, the term “hours” is used with remarkable flexibility—sometimes denoting precise measures of time and at other times serving as a vessel for emotional or symbolic meaning. For instance, in works of travel and adventure, authors quantify progress or delay by referring to exact durations, as seen when journeys or labors are measured in two, twelve, or even twenty-four hours [1], [2], [3]. In contrast, “hours” can also evoke mood and introspection; it encapsulates the lingering sensation of time passing during moments of personal reflection or intimacy, such as in the tender exchanges between characters [4], [5]. Moreover, in scientific or philosophical texts, the term is employed to underscore the passage of time in relation to nature or fate [6], [7]. This dual usage—both concrete and metaphorical—demonstrates the word’s literary versatility and its enduring capacity to shape narrative pacing and emotional tone.
- We had slept for six hours, and had done eighteen miles.
— from The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Complete by Giacomo Casanova - “Eh, it was that that did the business; after pitching heavily for twelve hours we sprung a leak.
— from The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas and Auguste Maquet - You will be advised twenty-four hours in advance of my arrival at Fontainebleau.
— from Napoleon's Letters to Josephine, 1796-1812 by Emperor of the French Napoleon I - I felt forthwith a new impatience to see him; it was the beginning of a curiosity that, for all the next hours, was to deepen almost to pain.
— from The Turn of the Screw by Henry James - But the hours when Sara and the Indian gentleman sat alone and read or talked had a special charm of their own.
— from A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett - I will next explain how the sun, passing through a different sign each month, causes the days and hours to increase and diminish in length.
— from The Ten Books on Architecture by Vitruvius Pollio - After all, there are twenty-four hours in the day, and the summits of emotion can only be reached at rare intervals.
— from The Moon and Sixpence by W. Somerset Maugham
