Best 3514 quotes in «fate quotes» category

When you run to that which is not rightfully yours, it flees from you, but when you flee from that which is legitimately yours, it pursues you.

When you start to accept responsibility for the results you get in life, you also take back the power to change your future outcome.

Where Destiny sets its path, Fate shall follow...:

Wherever fate lands you, you look for something interesting and enjoy it as best as you can. Maybe that's what makes life interesting.

Wherever you go in the next catastrophé Be it sickroom, or prison, or cemet’ry Do not fear that your stay will be solit’ry Countless souls share your fate, you’ll have company!

Whether fate or fortuitous, The voyage is incessant. Life is gratuitous, It's regrets recrudescent. We so blindly see adversely, Linear to some 'decree'. Sentenced by each other, To live this critically. To err is Human, Ironic that we divest. For any man who puts that past him, No misfortunes he has left.

Where we choose to be, where we choose to be--we have the power to determine that in our lives. We cannot reel time backward or forward, but we can take ourselves to the place that defines our being.

Where you go, I shall go; where you die, I shall die, and there will I be buried.

Whether sunrise or sunset, it heralds a new opportunity to dream...

Whether you live or die, whether you're bad or good, whether you're born or not, it's all arbitrary… but what can I say? I don’t like fate or chance, and I don’t always play by the rules, legalist as I am.

While dashing about, trying to avoid all the outrageous slings and arrows Fate hurls at us, we’ll occasionally slip on an empyrean banana peel and land on our metaphysical behinds.

While passing through an obscure nook of Notre Dame cathedral, Victor Hugo noticed the Greek work for fate carved in the stone. He imagined a tormented soul driven to engrave this word. From this seed sprang his monumental novel "The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Who am I to say that these things might nit be forever? Who is Peter Van Houten to assert as fact the conjecture that our labor is temporary?

Who can ever know what path to walk on when all of them are either crooked or broken? One just has to walk.

Who can resist when destiny calls?

Who's to know what makes a bird wake up and decide to change its song? It was written that our world would change and it changed.

Who was more conscious than the soldier of capricious fortune, of the random roll of the dice?

Why did fate decide to over-season her soul’s stockpot with a dash of tear-spilling salt, then give her life a stir to watch the pyramid of pain crumble?

Why can’t I remember that not once have I ever seen a coin, whether grimy copper or bright gold, that had but one side.

Why did you make me?' I asked her, before she could speak. I felt like a convict standing on a gallows with a noose around my neck, asking about the nature of God. 'Why like this? Can I really end my story? Were you ever going to let me go?' 'Let you go?' Her voice was honey on razor blades. 'Go to /what/? This is your purpose-- the start of your story. This is what you were made to do.' 'So you lied. I can't really change anything.' She smiled at me, a tender smile that sent fear jackrabbiting through my blood. 'You wouldn't want to... can't you see that yet? The Stories are perfect. The Stories are /worlds/. I made a whole world just for you, and in it you get to do what no one else gets to: you get to live, and live, and live. And everything will come out the way it's meant to be, no matter what. I made it that way.' 'But how is that living?' I whispered.

Why do things happen the way they do? Is there some kind of order in all this chaos that we just don't see, or is it all, as the mathematically minded people would like us to believe, just random coincidence? If you put one hundred apes in a room, they'll tell you, with one hundred typewriters, and given an infinite amount of time and bananas, one of them would eventually churn out the complete Oxford dictionary. It's all statistical math and probability. The odds of winning the lottery are greater than the odds of getting struck by lightning, but someone wins, don't they? And people get hit by lightning disturbingly more often that you would think. Their point is, eventually all things happen. No matter how philosophically unprejudiced you are, you can't argue with statistical probabilities. But you can certainly give the mathematicians some substantial cud to chew on, can't you? For instance, sure, everything may be eventual from a statistical point of view, but what happens to the formula if you plug in when a particular thing happens? The fortuitousness of the timing? Or combine a particular coincidence with other seemingly non-related coincidences that might have occurred within the same general time frame? We've all had it happen. It's one of our favorite phrases: "Why me? Why now?" Well, when you take the "when" into account, all kinds of very interesting and un-mathematical things begins to happen. The coincidence becomes too coincidental to be a coincidence.

Why escape your intended purpose by copying and trying to be someone else? You will discover who you were meant to be only after you have shown confidence being yourself.

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walk under his huge legs and peep about To find ourselves dishonorable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Why have all the pieces joined together to create such a cruel fate?

Why settle for a lesser vision? When you are destiny for greatness!

Why?" She asked in a confused whisper. "Out of all the women in the world, why did you choose this mortal?" "Because fate drove me to you.

Will, is the precursor of possibility, and the foresight of potential.

Will you not see?” she cried. “You are not as other men are. Why need you bow to a Fate? Can you not change it?

Wisdom is bestowed by the Creator.

With faith, you can find your fate.

With great passion, observe every details of the sacred journey.

Without adversity and trials we may never know what we are capable of.

Without sufficient control, fate is pushing your switches on a continual basis.

Without knowing why or how, I found myself in love with this strange Wanderess. Maybe I was just in love with the dream she was selling me: a life of destiny and fate; as my own life up until we met had been so void of enchantment. Those things: mystery, fate, enchantment... they are things that young people offer us as soon as we get close to them. And if we're not careful, we can be seduced by, and drawn back into, the youthful world they preside over.

Without road maps fate just takes over to create random events.

With us, there were always too many false starts. I believe that what's meant to be usually has a way of working out... and with us, it never did. Call it timing, call it fate, call it what you want. It is what it is. Sometimes in the end, the girl doesn't always get the boy--and that's ok. Life goes on. You know better than anyone that some love stories never get their happy ending... but it doesn't make them any less of a love story though, does it? It doesn't make the love the two shared any less relevant.

With riddles as black as coals, and answers as invisible as our past, I can only depend upon the crest of the rolling wave I now traversed; a romance worshiped only by the dreamer in us all, a psithurism of trust making its way through the years of our ascension to one day climb above the kaleidoscopic canopy of this mortal coil.

With you it's different, There isn't a catostrophic emotion of endorphines, but there is a silent feeling of contentment & peace. I won't deny I have my fears, but your worth the discovery.

World believers of righteousness must fight the enemies of Allah through uncompromising...

Words came to her from outside of memory; they fluttered against her heart like a rush of wings and soared from her voice in a song she'd never known. A song she'd always known. She hummed the incantation, and the force of magic behind it erupted in a crescendo through her blood. Every cell in her body vibrated with pure joy. I have lived this before. This is my destiny. I am Zyne.

Worrying about outcomes over which I have no control is punishing myself before the universe has decided whether I ought to be punished.

Would the truth be silenced, or would it try to break through Meaning if someone loves you and its meant to be but for unknown reasons it seems to be over would you somehow get fatalistic messages that would hint at you the truth behind the relationship- are forces at play to try and waken you up to the idea that you're actually meant to be and should be together?

Would it be possible to speak to this Universe person?" "I'm sure that they will understand that there is a personality conflict." It was time to bump my complaint to upper management. "No one speaks to the Universe." "Then how do you know what to do?" I leaned in a little. "Simple. Through my orders." His eyes started to twitch. "Which you get how?" "My memos.

Words of the hero: "I am my fate.

Xerxes, I read, ‘halted his unwieldy army for days that he might contemplate to his satisfaction’ the beauty of a single sycamore. You are Xerxes in Persia. Your army spreads on a vast and arid peneplain…you call to you all your sad captains, and give the order to halt. You have seen the tree with the lights in it, haven’t you? You must have. Xerxes buffeted on a plain, ambition drained in a puff. Your men are bewildered…there is nothing to catch the eye in this flatness, nothing but a hollow, hammering sky, a waste of sedge in the lee of windblown rocks, a meager ribbon of scrub willow tracing a slumbering watercourse…and that sycamore. You saw it; you will stand rapt and mute, exalted, remembering or not remembering over a period of days to shade your head with your robe. “He had its form wrought upon a medal of gold to help him remember it the rest of his life.” We all ought to have a goldsmith following us around. But it goes without saying, doesn’t it, Xerxes, that no gold medal worn around your neck will bring back the glad hour, keep those lights kindled so long as you live, forever present? Pascal saw it; he grabbed pen and paper and scrawled the one word, and wore it sewn in his shirt the rest of his life. I don’t know what Pascal saw. I saw a cedar. Xerxes saw a sycamore.

Yeah, I’m listenin’,” Morganith answered, “and Arda once told me pregnant Alteri women can see what might come to pass, not what will come to pass. What they see is just what people chose to do of their own shitty free will, not what they were forced to do by some gods.

Yes! all is past—swift time has fled away, Yet its swell pauses on my sickening mind; How long will horror nerve this frame of clay? I'm dead, and lingers yet my soul behind. Oh! powerful Fate, revoke thy deadly spell, And yet that may not ever, ever be, Heaven will not smile upon the work of Hell; Ah! no, for Heaven cannot smile on me; Fate, envious Fate, has sealed my wayward destiny.

You are a Chosen Man. You are Parmenion, the Death of Nations. A hundred thousand souls will you send to the dark river, screaming and wailing, lamenting their fate. It is right and just that you should know your choices.

Yet her experience had consisted less in a series of pure disappointments than in a series of substitutions. Continually it had happened that what she had desired had not been granted her, and that what had been granted her she had not desired. So she viewed with an approach to equanimity the now cancelled days when Donald had been her undeclared lover, and wondered what unwished-for thing Heaven might send her in place of him.

You are always moving toward your fate, in life.