Best 3514 quotes in «fate quotes» category

In this life at least, Our fate is rarely epic. Maybe just as well, Impervious heroes we are not…

In this arid wilderness of steel and stone I raise up my voice that you may hear. To the East and to the West I beckon. To the North and to the South I show a sign proclaiming: Death to the weakling, wealth to the strong! Compton

In this way Fate outplayed the efforts of mortals-simply to amuse itself, one might think.

In time you shall see Fate approach you In the shape of your own image in the mirror.

In twenty-one years, I have not considered changing to Todd. The bizarre course of my life suggests that Odd is more suited to me, whether it was conferred by my parents with intention or fate.

Io non discuto di filosofia. Io non studio storia. So solo che il passato è passato e ciò che sta davanti è davanti e si chiama ka e bada a se stesso.

I personally find the whole destiny thing to be overrated. It rarely ends well and involves extensive death and sacrifice for the greater good. None of which is really my thing.

I raise up in stern invasion the standard of the strong! Compton

I question all things. As I stand before the festering and varnished facades of your haughtiest moral dogmas, I write thereon in letters of blazing scorn: Lo and behold; all this is fraud! Compton

I really believe that there is an invisible red thread tied between him and me, and that it has stretched and tangled for years — across oceans and lifetimes. I know that it won’t break because our souls are tied.

I realize we all walk around pretending we have some control over our fate, because to recognize the truth--that no matter what we do, the bottom will fall out when we least expect it--is just too unbearable to live with.

I request reason for your golden rule and ask the why and wherefore of your commandments. Compton

I ruin everything. I think that a bullet must have passed through my heart when I was very young, causing me to bleed out slowly, over things and people and every white surface that I’d ever come across.

I said I liked sunsets and he said “you should see the sunrise,” and told me about open fields in Canada, where he’d been. I listened and he talked and my broken heart ached a little lower and not so hard, and I never told him about it, but I think he knew, for by the end of the night he said he liked that I finally smiled and told me to do so more often, and that was just one of many days that didn’t turn out the way I had planned, but just like I needed it to, and that’s where I’d like to live. So it’s about the endless possibility of every single day. Be always on your way.

Is all ordained? Foreknowledge is not fate, and we may choose our paths, yet fate says we may not choose them. So if fate is real, do we have a choice?

I saw you and i knew, more or less, now or in far away time you would shape a chapter in my story that i would spend a lifetime trying to forget.

I see it in your eyes as I see it in hers. Remember, there is always light where there is love and if that is what is meant to happen between the two of you, then it was destined.

. . . is it better to throw yourself head first and laughing into the holy rage calling your name?

Is not an event in fact more significant and noteworthy the greater the number of fortuities necessary to bring it about? ... Everything that occurs out of necessity, everything expected, repeated day in and day out, is mute. Only chance can speak to us.

Is life a fantasy or fairy tales?

Is not our capacity to choose, to chase, to dream of becoming other than we are, more powerful then the patterns of the stars?

Isn't that the way everything begins? A night, a love, a once and for all.

I spoke of the tragic illusion of perpetuity, but, no, my friends, it is a comic one. The ludicrous plot in which we are all trapped. The ancient Greeks referred to plot as mythos, attributing the random drift of human affairs to some sort of unknowable but glimpsable divine motion, attempting to attach a certain grandeur to it, the delusion of meaning. But we are characters who do not exist, in a story composed by no one from nothing. Can anything be more pitiable? No wonder we all are grieving.

I spent so much time thinking about regret. Regret and its accompanying conviction that there is a perfect, placid life, one's own alternate existence, pristine and simple, existing in a neighboring reality in which certain turns in the road were never set upon. And it isn't true. Any of it. I knew that. I had learned it. But it is an irresistible fantasy, if only because it implies we have some control over our fates.

Is there something like fate? Or is it a key role in our lives? Or have we forgotten to look in ourselves? As the struggle continues, we know, there's no fate.

I stepped out and the sun was shining. And the birds were chirping. It was the nicest day we'd had in ages. A couple of bunnies scampering about. It could have been the start of a Disney flick.

I still believed firmly in chance at that time.

Is there any teacher better, more patient, more determined than fate?

I taught I had to be good to walk with God. And God said, “My grace is what you need to walk with me, than you will be good.

I suppose I hadn't believed in Fate until that point. But it's hard not to [...] when you think that there was no way, across miles, continents, vast ocean, we were meant to see each other again.

It cleaves our hearts apart but it stitches them back together just as easily. It is the language of the eyes for they speak it more eloquently than words will ever do. You fall in it and it may heave you higher than the seventh sky. Nothing makes sense without it despite its senselessnness. It comes in different shades and colors and if you're fortunate yours would be that of blood but it won't have you bleeding. You're a fool for trying to eschew its hold for it is everywhere but if you don't you may wind-up feeling like a fool. Good luck

It all seems like a horrible tragedy, with fate pressing on relentlessly to some destined end. Everything that one does seems, no matter how right it may be, to bring on the very thing which is most to be deplored.

It does not matter how much we distance ourselves, how far we run - the past always shadows us.

I think now we are simply strangers with some memories.

It doesn't matter if we don't mean to do the things we do. It doesn't mean if it was an accident or a mistake. It doesn't even matter if we think this is all up to fate. Because regardless of our destiny, we still have to answer for our actions. We make choices, big and small, every day of our lives, and those choices have consequences.

It felt like fate. That if Gray Shadow and Caius could not find their way to each other, their bloodlines eventually did.

I think we're all aiming to be something better than what everyone thinks we were born to be

It had a little to do with fate, suffering and what becomes of the broken hearted. Resilience is the main characteristic of champions, strength wasn’t build in a day.

I think sometimes, despite our good intentions and wise choices, something's are up to fate and we learn to play our part the best we can.

I think there are some who live on a knife-edge in the soul, and at times are driven to hurl themselves into the air, at the mercy of heaven or he'll which way to fall.

It is a bit of a cliché to characterize life as a rambling journey on which we can alter our course at any given time--by the slightest turn of the wheel, the wisdom goes, we influence the chain of events and thus recast our destiny with new cohorts, circumstances, and discoveries. But for the most of us, life is nothing like that. Instead, we have a few brief periods when we are offered a handful of discrete options. Do I take this job or that job? In Chicago or New York? Do I join this circle of friends or that one, and with whom do I go home at the end of the night? And does one make time for children now? Or later? Or later still? In that sense, life is less like a journey than it is a game of honeymoon bridge. In our twenties, when there is still so much time ahead of us, time that seems ample for a hundred indecisions, for a hundred visions and revisions--we draw a card, and we must decide right then and there whether to keep that card and discard the next, or discard the first card and keep the second. And before we know it, the deck has been played out and the decisions we have just made shape our lives for decades to come.

It is an obvious fact that you can never look ahead with clarity at your own future or anybody else's. You can't know what will happen until it happens. Or maybe it dawns on you the split second before, when you get a glimpse of your own fate.

I thought of the new stone, of my new wife, and of the newly buried white bones beneath us, and I felt that fate had made sport of us all.

It is always a great honor to be the driver of your own car, to be the boss of your own fate!

It is impossible to know how the choices we make will change the course of our future, how a small break from a relationship might seal our fate, or how an inconsequential choice over something we deem temporary could become permanent.

It is important not to become a prisoner of fate.

It is fate, damn destiny, that has its way with us.

It is the kind of moment life gives us when it laughs. It is choosing without choice. A rich meagerness, that.

It is strange how intricately life hangs in the scales, and how unrelated events and single decisions alter the outcomes. Some remote land ten thousand miles from me, some land unfamiliar to me, held the key to my future.

It is the lumps and trials That tell us whether we shall be known And whether our fate can be exemplary, like a star.