Quotes About Fate

From Mother you will inherit the belief that you can journey to your fate, there's a place to be located on a map that's destiny. If only you can get there. If it isn't too late. If no one stops you.

whatever you do, with whom you do it or whether you do it alone, and when, and how, and why, to what mysterious end—it's balanced against nothing, against Death and forgetting. You balanced against oblivion.

The gym cat appears to those who will die. He is our totem. This thought came to me a few weeks ago. I shared it with no one of course.

For it seemed (though why it seemed so, no one knew) that everything began on that night. And, once begun, it could not be stopped.

What is destiny—a mechanical fact, a theoretical possibility, a concept, a superstition, a mere word? Ian McCullough was inclined to think one or another of these depending upon his mood. Destiny, the seemingly benign verso of fate.

There is no PAST anybody can get to, to alter things or even to know what those things were but there is definitely a future, we are already in it.

It was the fate of mothers, to remember. What nobody else would know or care about. That, when they are gone, goes with them.

I broke a mirror and the pieces floated to China Goodbye!

No noose is good noose'—as the condemned man said on the scaffold.

How bizarre it seems to us, Hudson had been looking for a route to the Pacific Ocean, as his predecessor Christopher Columbus had been looking for a route to the East Indies . . . I thought The routes we think we are taking are not the routes we will take. The routes that take us. I

For such an effort would be like drawing a single breath in the knowledge that you would not draw another. You were fated to suffocate, to die. You were fated to become extinct.

Fascinating to Hannah, who has constructed her life as a means of exploiting her own passivity, to be forced to see how free she is: how alert, excited, aroused and aware and in a state of anticipation she really is, and not "fated.

It was like a storybook: her life was being written for her. She did not have to write it, only just to read it. The pages were being turned for her, too

tragedy and death would follow a person whereever he went in life. There was no such thing as escape, except maybe the kind that Mr. Kirby had accomplished...

Nothing good happens accidentally.

Indeed, with iAm out of the picture, she was prepared to be celibate. Who else would she want, anyway? She had met her match—it was even decreed in the stars. That he didn't want her? Well, one's fate was not another's, no matter the emotions involved—

There is no more disastrous mania, no more dangerous whim, than the speculation over roads not taken.

La muerte no se reparte como si fuera un bien.

Y por si fuera poco el estar trabado de flaco, vivía si es que todavía vive, aplastado por el odio como una piedra; y es válido decirlo, su desventura fue la de haber nacido.

Porque yo creo que el día que deje de comer me voy a morir, y entonces me iré con toda seguridad derechito al infierno.

Fate has no scruples.

I don't want to pull a Brahe.

You made your bed; now, you can die in it.

We are where we need to be (whether we like it or not).