Best 3514 quotes in «fate quotes» category

Have faith in fate. You don't have a choice.

Have faith in fate. Your destiny is tailor-made for you.

Have faith in the future and accept your fate.

He and his fate walk together, Master and Slave. In which order, only time and action tell.

Heavenly onwards!

He could pour himself into my little paper cup heart and my emptiness would finally have a meaning.

He did it because he could not help himself, which explains everything and nothing

He felt, in a way so familiar as to be almost dreary, the chosen victim of the gods, the self-admitted traitor, the one destined for judgment.

He grinned again. We'd only been seeing each other for a few weeks now, but this easy give-and-take still surprised me. From that very first day in my room, I felt like we'd somehow skipped the formalities of the Beginning of a Relationship: those awkward moments when you're not all over each other and are still feeling out the other person's boundaries and limits. Maybe this was because we'd been circling each other for a while before he finally catapulted through my window. But if I let myself think about it much - and I didn't - I had flashes of realising that I'd been comfortable with him even at the very start. Clearly, he'd been comfortable with me, grabbing my hand as he had that first day. As if he knew, even then, that we'd be here now.

He had the strangest feeling come over him, which he'd never before known. Like he was meeting his best friend, for the first time. It was recognition mixed with relief...but also some amount of joy. Like, "Oh, there you are! It's so great to meet you finally! I've missed you!

He had to accept the fate of every newcomer to a small town where there are plenty of tongues that gossip and few minds that think.

he imagined fate as a goddess, capricious and fickle, or as a river, which could flood at any moment

He had to go there because of Patrick; and because it was fated. Yes, that gave him courage, to feel that he had not sought it, it had come upon him, and however fruitless or disastrous that journey might be, he had to undertake it, because it was his fate.

He is cured by faith who is sick of fate.

...he knew human lives were free of the chains of fate except in one regard: It was the human destiny to be free.

....he knew that he'd run into his destiny as a man in the dark walks into a wall.

He knew for certain that she belonged forever in his arms, just as he knew she didn’t realize it yet.

He is trapped underground, suddenly and unexpectedly close to death, but still in control of his fate. "At that moment I put death in my head and decided I would live with it," he says later.

He is where he is supposed to be. And yet the place he has found is also of his own choosing. That is a piece of luck not to be despised.

he knew that fate was only a mythological concept

He looked at me, that first day, like he had just found something he’d lost a thousand years ago.

He looked left and she turned right ment to be together but not that night...

He pondered long over this, for might not another man, returning to another valley, have found none of these things? Why was it given to one man to have his pain transmuted into gladness? Why was it given to one man to have such an awareness of God?

Here's another poem, like all others before and after, dedicated to you. There isn't anything left to be said but I will spend my life trying to put you into words. You who is every goodness, every optimism and hope. Your love is a better fate for me than anything I could wish for. If you are a part of me, then you’re the best part. And if you're separate from me, then you are my destination. But I’ve become a weary traveller, so please, let us never be apart.

Here is your great soul—the man who has given himself over to Fate; on the other hand, that man is a weakling and a degenerate who struggles and maligns the order of the universe and would rather reform the gods than reform himself.

Her steel blue eyes captivated him at first glance and along with the alluring scent of jasmine surrounding her presence, he lost all sense of time and rhythm, and barely remembered the ensuing conversation. Thinking he had died and gone to heaven, the only thing that stuck in his memory, as they found themselves pressed urgently against the wall of her hotel room, was her name; Ginny.

He sees her looking at him with interest, and is encouraged to go on. 'I wouldn't be here with you now. This wouldn't be real - something else would. You'd have been another you, instead of the one you are now. You can't be tied down to a predestined fate when you change according to your situation, and your fate must change too. Everything depends on circumstances - on which "you" you happen to be at a given time...

He watched the fire and if he saw portents there it was much the same to him. He would live to look upon the western sea and he was equal to whatever might follow for he was complete at every hour. Whether his history should run concomitant with men and nations, whether it should cease. He'd long forsworn all weighing of consequence and allowing as he did that men's destinies are given yet he usurped to contain within him all that he would ever be in the world and all that the world would be to him and be his charter written in the urstone itself he claimed agency and said so and he'd drive the remorseless sun on to its final endarkenment as if he'd ordered it all ages since, before there were paths anywhere, before there were men or suns to go upon them.

He was angry; not as the irritable, from chafing of a trifle; nor was his anger like the fool's, pumped from the wells of nothing, to be dissipated by a reproach or a curse; it was the wrath peculiar to ardent natures rudely awakened by the sudden annihilation of a hope --dream, if you will-- in which the choicest happinesses were thought to be certainly in reach. In such case nothing intermediate will carry off the passion --the quarrel is with Fate.

He that is slow to believe anything and everything is of great understanding, for belief in one false principle is the beginning of all unwisdom. Compton

He wondered at times whether he didn’t belong to a class of people secretly convinced they had an arrangement with fate; in return for docility or ingenuous good will they were to be shielded from the worst brutalities in life.

His entire presence was like gravity, impossible to forget, possible to believe in, a theory merged into a law.

Hindi ako naniniwala sa fate, destiny at soul mates. Ang mundo ay binubuo ng mga pangyayaring random na kaganapan. Bahala ka sa buhay mo.

. . . his heart stopped beating long ago. Only one person could make it beat again: his one true love. They said his kiss had been fatal to all but her - his only weakness.

His eyes were above hers, and she saw that the golden-hazel irises were rimmed with black. “Miss Hathaway … you’re quite certain fate had no hand in our meeting tonight?” She couldn’t seem to breathe properly. “Qu-quite certain.” His head bent low. “And in all likelihood we’ll never meet again?” “Never.” He was too large, too close. Nervously Amelia tried to marshal her thoughts, but they scattered like spilled matchsticks … and then he set fire to them as his breath touched her cheek. “I hope you’re right. God help me if I should ever have to face the consequences.” “Of what?” Her voice was faint. “This.” His hand slid to the back of her neck and his mouth covered hers.

His mother, Zach explained, taught the Romantics and named her sons accordingly, extravagantly, tempting fate. She plays a terrible game of names. Thomas Love survives his beloved elder brother Percy Bysshe who died in a sailing accident. Percy Bysshe, buried at sea. The name and the man, a strange attractor. Everything is true.

History will remember him as a savage, but that's because we write the histories.

History, too, has a penchant for giving birth to itself over and over again, and those whom it appoints agents of change and progress do not always accept their destinies willingly.

honestly i don't understand the rousing of romance all that well. i used to believe in this thing called fate, or destiny. a romantic romeo and juliet, monet and veronica, etc. but now i feel jaded, maybe agnostic to the idea. but choice used to seem so unromantic, as if some mystic force was not behind the meeting of 2 beautiful individuals. but now i think choice is the greater of the two simply for this fact: by choosing someone you are saying that out of all the people in the entire world i have decided that i want you apart of my life in perpetuum, for the rest of my life, and no one else. no haphazard circumstance, no chance meetings where distant planets align. it's simply two rational individuals who make a choice and an effort to remain together.

How bitter they cry in need, those who refuse to help others in trouble!

Hope – or perhaps delusion – was a flame that had stayed lit, even though its scorching light would hurt. It had refused to go out.

How can we ever presume to know what will come of our choices, our paths, the lives we lead?

How could two people know each other so intimately without have told the old stories. You get to an age where the stories don’t matter anymore, and the stories once told so passionately become a tide that never quite reaches the point of being said. And there is no such thing as fate, but there are no accidents either.

How is it that there was never you until there was and then all was you?

How fate is stubborn and holds to habit.

How swiftly fate can make or unmake kings.

How much harm, eddying outward in fateful circles, Clement was beginning to foresee.

Human Prejudice is Dark Fate's favourite friend

Human greatness is not discovered until it is tested; we must be hardened against fortune by fortune itself

I am a complicated person with a simple life and I am the reason for everything that ever happened to me.