Quotes About Purpose

What makes you think anyone has a destiny? We do what we do and we die.

We half to make our lives meaningful in spite of what we don't know.

Love is the only defense we ever have against the cold meaninglessness around us.

All you can do is make your life have meaning, make it good—

You have to suffer through the emptiness and find what compels you to continue.

Because if God does not exist, this life Ã¢â'¬Â¦ every second of it Ã¢â'¬Â¦ is all we have.

You are but a stray thread that needs to be trimmed.

Was he for the world or for me?

end. Before I even meant to do

How I hated Mael. How I feared him. Yet I had loved him once, loved him when we'd been mortals even, and I'd been his prisoner and he had been the Druid priest teaching me the hymns of the Faithful of the Forest, for what purpose, I didn't know.

Do what it is your nature to do. This is but a taste of it. Do what it is your nature to do.

Do you think we find our destiny somehow, no matter what happens? I mean, do you think that even as immortals we follow some path that was already marked for us when we were alive?

I went soft. I saw the shocks of the blows as so many colors, and I thought to myself bitterly, ah, what beautiful colors, yes, colors. Then came the increased wails of my brothers. They too must suffer this, and what mental refuge did they have, these fragile young students, each so well loved and so well taught and groomed for the great world, to find themselves now at the mercy of these demons whose purpose was unknown to me, whose purpose lay beyond anything I could conceive.

I think you were made for this; for reassuring, and given to us, if I may speculate, to force us to see our catastrophes in the new light of modern conscience.

But when you feel as if you are but a dry leaf carried by the endless winds of time, and you can bear the thought of what seems like a haphazard wandering no longer, you must go where there is pain and seek to alleviate it.

I who am hard and spare and dedicated to a purpose, felt drawn to her irresistibly; and, knowing it could only culminate in death, I turned away from her at once, wondering if when she gazed into my eyes she found them dead and soulless.

It makes you wonder why we bother accumulating, accumulating, when we know from earliest childhood how it's all going to end.

you can think back on your life and almost believe it was laid out for you in advance, like this plain clear path you were destined to take even if it looked like nothing but brambles and stobs at the time. You know?

Always have a purpose,' his father used to tell him. 'Act like you're heading someplace purposeful, and none of the low-life will mess with you.' He had also said, 'Never trust a man who starts his sentences with Frankly,' and 'Nine tenths of a good sidearm pitch is in the flick of the wrist,' and 'If you want to sell a person something, look off elsewhere as you're speaking, not straight into his eyes.

View your burden as a gift. It's the theme that has been given you to work with. Accept that, and lean into it. This is the only life you'll have.

He began to see the situation from another angle. An assignment had been given him. Someone's life, a small set of lives had been placed in the palm of his hand. Maybe he would never have any more purpose than this: to accept the assignment gracefully, lovingly, and do the best he could with it.

Does he ever stop to consider his life? The meaning of it, the point? Does it trouble him to think that he will probably spend his next thirty or forty years this way? Nobody knows. And it's almost certain nobody's ever asked him. On a Monday toward the end of October, he was still eating breakfast when his first call came in.

Each life is a kind of assignment, I believe, Eliza told her. You're given this one assigned slot each time you come to earth, this little square of experience to work through. So even if your life has been troubled, I believe, it's what you're meant to deal with on this particular go-round.

Finally Reverend Emmett asked, 'Shall we walk on?' So they did. They passed a lone man waiting at a bus stop, a shopkeeper locking up his store. Each footstep, Ian felt, led him closer to something important. He was acutely conscious all at once of motion, of flux and possibility. He felt he was an arrow - not an arrow shot by God but an arrow heading toward God, and if it took every bit of this only life he had, he believed that he would get there in the end.