Best 3514 quotes in «fate quotes» category

Today is the winter solstice. The planet tilts just so to its star, lists and holds circling in a fixed tension between veering and longing, and spins helpless, exalted, in and out of that fleet blazing touch. Last night Orion vaulted and spread all over the sky, pagan and lunatic, his shoulder and knee on fire, his sword three suns at the ready-for what? I won’t see this year again, not again so innocent; and longing wrapped round my throat like a scarf. “For the Heavenly Father desires that we should see,” says Ruysbroeck, “and that is why He is ever saying to our inmost spirit one deep unfathomable word and nothing else.” But what is the word? Is this mystery or coyness? A cast-iron bell hung from the arch of my rib cage; when I stirred, it rang, or it tolled, a long syllable pulsing ripples up my lungs and down the gritty sap inside my bones, and I couldn’t make it out; I felt the voiced vowel like a sigh or a note but I couldn’t catch the consonant that shaped it into sense.

To each his fate in love, I suppose.

To everyone who kept staring at the horizon, it always seemed like the earth and sky met and kissed each other, the very thought of that seemed to make every single thing in the universe beautiful. But only the sky and earth knew the distance between them, only they knew the fact that they could never be together.

Too long right and wrong, good and evil have been inverted by false prophets! Compton

Too long the dead hand has been permitted to sterilize living thought! Compton

To reflect upon the present as history is to understand that history may now be made by default. Understanding that, we no longer need accept as “necessary” the lesser evil. We no longer need to accept historical fate, for fate is a feature of specific kinds of social structure, of irresponsible systems of power. These systems can be changed. Fate can be transcended We must come to understand that while the domain of fate is diminishing, the exercise of responsibility is also diminishing and in fact becoming organized as irresponsibility. We must hold men of power variously responsible for pivotal events, we mush unmask their pretentions- and often their own mistaken convictions- that they are not responsible. Our politics, in short, must be the politics of responsibility.

To survive was to escape fate. But if you escape your fate, whose life do you then step into?

To submit isn’t to be forced. It’s to yield to a force greater than your own, in order to become part of the whole.

To think that we might easily have gone through life not knowing each other, missing all this free flow of love and ideas and warmth and sharing... We share really almost everything. (Avis DeVoto to Julia Child)

To walk through life with every step a full measure to our, so called, 'destiny' would be a boring life indeed. Embarked on this straight, direct, unerring journey, complete with no 'mirrors or doors', would surely be no friend. Why is this so hard to understand?

Tragedy springs from its own peculiar sorcery, with treachery, born of envy or ambition, a usual instigator. Treachery is apparent only after the events staged are well over, as we know, its victims dead, or living and smarting under its tricks, realizing too late how they have been misused: if indeed they are ever cognizant of its role, if still players, to this wonder and rue. Most unacceptable is its subtlety, the double-face which double-deals, the Iago perpetrators hidden for decades, smiling the smiles of polite and not so polite society. They nod and wave, heroes to many; sly politicians these Claudiuses. Time favours the Macbeths and forgets the maligned. The former enjoy live, some even oblivious to their lies as being lies, for they prefer to bask in blessings, aping the certainties of creed, cheating death and duty while in pavilions of ease. They succeed on their success, trite or vast; wealth for some, and enviably, fame for the few. The unaware, their victims, float off to obscurity on ruptured vessels of injustice to theater lands unknown, never really knowing why, if the job's done property. Normality is, truthfully, life's whore, readily embraced and conveniently embracing; secretly, it has the clap. Thinking of plot should then give pause. The treacherous cheat fate and re-write, their 'intended history'. Call it fate. They become authors of an illicit story, penmen of their own gods, living their own fresh creation through a new, egregious, utilitarian drama that is untouched by either truth or beauty.

Trapped, cutting herself against the jagged edges of her emotions, she was a prisoner of her own spirit.

Tram’s road is predetermined, but not yours! You are not a tram, you can choose your path

True love should not have to lie, cheat, or steal. The best kind of love finds you when you need it most.

Trusting fate, especial to resolve anything is a pure gamble.

Trusting fate is like gambling on an unknown outcome with unknown consequences.

Two silent time zones had now merged to form the standard time of one man's fate; and it is not impossible that the poet in New Wye and the thug in New York awoke that morning at the same crushed beat of their Timekeeper's stopwatch.

Upon first glance I felt a sense of familiarity with you. Like we had been down this road a thousand times before, why I felt this with a complete stranger I am yet to know but I trust further down the road our chance meeting will make perfect sense.

Twin flame love is raw, real and rare ~ it comes when we least expect, can't understand nor have the patience to accept it, than its gone & the true test of fate starts to play. A bond built amongst the stars can't be tampered by an earthly experience, trust the distance, twin flames always meet again.

Until I find a home in a human, art has my heart.

Use your special gifts to fulfil your divine purpose.

Var det skjebnen som styrte alt dette? I så fall, hva er skjebnen? Er den Gud? Er skjebnen krefter i kosmos? Hvor er Gud og hvor er Djevelen i slike situasjoner?

Tutti siamo soggetti al fato. Però tutti dobbiamo agire come se non lo fossimo. O morire di disperazione.

Uit deze belevenissen, die niemand ziet, bestaat de innerlijke, wezenlijke lijn van ons lot. Zulk een breuk en scheur groeit weer dicht, hij heelt en wordt vergeten, maar in de diepst verborgen hoek leeft en bloedt hij verder.

Unfortunately, the world does not always act in a manner consistent with one's plans for it.

Unto those who have,it shall,uncannily, be given.Unto those who have not,it shall,uncannily,be taken away.

Unwitnessed. There was crime in that notion. A profound injustice against which he railed. In silence. Like every other soldier in the Bonehunters. Maybe. No, I am not mistaken – I see something in their eyes. I can see it. We rail against injustice, yes. That what we do will be seen by no-one. Our fate unmeasured.

Uzaemon is no longer surprised by Shuzai's perspicacity. "I don't know if I have the right to involve you." "To a believer in Fate," replies Shuzai, "it's not you who is involving me.

Wanaume hupenda nyama kwenye mifupa.

Warner. A white bird with streaks of gold like a crown atop its head. A fair - skinned boy with gold hair, the leader of Sector 45. It was always him. All along . The link.

Watch out, every day miraculous encounter with you and God!

Was I a fool to believe in fate or in some destined illusionary path? I don't know. But we all need something to believe in.

We all are characters in a movie.

Watching her, I remembered a girl I'd known in school, a grind, Mildred Grossman. Mildred: with her moist hair and greasy spectacles, her strained fingers that dissected frogs and carried coffee to picket lines, her flat eyes that only turned toward the stars to estimate their chemical tonnage. Earth and air could not be more opposite than Mildred and Holly, yet in my head they acquired a Siamese twinship, and the thread of thought that had sewn them together ran like this: the average personality reshapes frequently, every few years even our bodies undergo a complete overhaul--desirable or not, it is a natural thing that we should change. All right, here were two people who never would. That is what Mildred Grossman had in common with Holly Golightly. They would never change because they'd been given their character too soon; which, like sudden riches, leads to a lack of proportion: the one had splurged herself into a top-heavy realist, the other a lopsided romantic. I imagined them in a restaurant of the future, Mildred still studying the menu for its nutritional values, Holly still gluttonous for everything on it. It would never be different. They would walk through life and out of it with the same determined step that took small notice of those cliffs at the left.

We aim for the higher calling of God.

We all have that divine moment, when our lives are transformed by the knowledge of the truth.

We are always people that are in the making, constantly adapting to accommodate the roads we walk. As we learn, it changes us. As we go about our course, we grow, and prune everything around us; friends, beliefs, desires. Our past experiences plant the seeds needed for our future roads, with all its turns, speed, and treachery.

We are all, he says, the sport of destiny. Ah, but not quite. Destiny is an intelligent force, moving with purpose.

We are all the authors of our own fates; but we have gotten so lost in the technicalities of forming letters and stringing words together that we've forgotten what it really means to write.

We are a pair of dice joined together in the game of fate, We never get along although we've rolled together for hundreds of years. Millions of people share this tiny light, The world belongs to you, The world belongs to me, The world belongs to nobody.

We are but pitiful narrative creatures... obsessing over the agony of not knowing. Sisyphus, Atlas, Echo, all those poor souls, now us. It is the oldest story of them all; never-ending pain.

We are heavenly beings.

We are all beautiful instruments of God. He created many notes in music so that we would not be stuck playing the same song. Be music always. Keep changing the keys, tones, pitch, and volume of each of the songs you create along your journey and play on. Nobody will ever reach ultimate perfection in this lifetime, but trying to achieve it is a full-time job. Start now and don't stop. Make your book of life a musical. Never abandon obligations, but have fun leaving behind a colorful legacy. Never allow anybody to be the composer of your own destiny. Take control of your life, and never allow limitations implanted by society, tell you how your music is supposed to sound — or how your book is supposed to be written.

We are all dealt a hand at birth. A good hand can ultimately lose - just as a poor hand can win - but we must all play the cards the fate deals. The choices we face may not be the choices we want, but they are choices nonetheless.

We are Darwin’s confetti. Some of us fall on bare rock. No matter how good you are, you can fail spectacularly. Just because you were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or just because of some fatal flaw. Nothing to do with talent.

We are capable beyond measure. Go all out and be the great person, you are destiny to be.

We are creatures taken seriously by the Earth, because we can severely affect the fate of the Earth, but we are in no way taken seriously by the Universe yet!

We are constantly immersed in a network of signs and symbols whose meaning eludes us, but which, if only we could read them, would reveal every detail of our past and even predict our future. Like anticipatory echoes, they tingle in our consciousness, building in crescendo until the event they herald becomes fully manifest. Afterwards, they linger for a time before being drowned out by a new tide of signs rushing in upon us. Such signatures are everywhere...

We are nothing more than game pieces on a celestial board whose sheer scale we could not possibly fathom. All of it is inevitable—just like you and I. You can’t fight Fate.” “I can fight you.” He smiled. It was a courtier’s smile. An elegant cover to endless secrets and depravities. “I’m counting on it.

We are not bound by time. But there are things we cannot speak of because the repercussions of particular thoughts can break lives.