Quotes About Fate

Having children is a lottery and you never know what you are going to draw out. Perhaps it is as well I got none.

The man who has the disease of tomorrow is the most unfortunate man in the world.

Oldu?unuz yerde gözü kapal? be? defa dönün ve bir ta? at?n, gözlerinizi tekrar açmadan önce o çak?lta??n?n hangi yana gitti?ini bilemezsiniz ama sonunda yere dü?ece?ini bilirsiniz. Kelimeler de böyledir. Ne pahas?na olursa olsun, sonunda bir yere konarlar ve önemli olan tek ?ey de budur.

So, in order to be courageous, I now have a fairly simple means at my disposal: to accept death.

Here everything is planned for killing. The ground is ready to receive us, the bullets are ready to hit us, the spots where the shells will explode are fixed in time and space, just like the paths of our destiny which will inevitably lead us to them. And yet we want to stay alive and we use all our mental strength to silence the voice of reason. We are well aware that death does not immortalise a human being in the memories of the living, it simply cancels him out.

Ha llegado otra vez la hora de la sangre. Hay que seguir el camino de la sangre. Pero la sangre que ve la luz se la bebe la tierra. Los buscan y los mataran. Pero ya habran mezclado sus sangres y seran como dos cantaros vacios, como dos arroyos secos.

A person doesn't die when he should but when he can.

It was inevitable: the scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love.

I am Cassandra—she who, without asking, understood it all and still came to her fate, I, Cassandra, full of visions, who sees her own death without turning away, and hears in the night the day that follows.

The gods give, like twin flowers, power and ruin, memory and oblivion.

The bronze of the door is worthless, alas, to keep me from seeing her who comes by the walks of myrtles to search me out drunk with hatred and crazed by fate.

And she grasps it because it's her fate.

Perché ella voleva partire? Perché ella voleva spezzare l'incanto? I loro destini ormai non erano legati per sempre? Egli aveva bisogno di lei per vivere, degli occhi, della voce, del pensiero di lei... egli era tutto penetrato da quell'amore, aveva tutto il sangue alterato come da un veleno, senza rimedio. Perché ella voleva fuggire? Egli si sarebbe avviticchiato a lei, l'avrebbe prima soffocata sul suo petto. No, non poteva essere... Mai! Mai!

Qué importa si soy derrotado en el espacio, si sé que estoy destinado a vencer en el tiempo?

Radian. The prisoner's name is Radiana. Who is keeping her prisoner? Time, Stelio. Time is guarding the doors with his scythe and his hour-glass, as in all those old prints...

Above all, mine is a love story. Unlike most love stories, this one involves chance, gravity, a dash of head trauma. It began with a coin toss. The coin came up tails. I was heads. Had it gone my way, there might not be a story at all. Just a chapter, or a sentence in a book whose greater theme had yet to be determined. Maybe this chapter would've had the faintest whisper of love about it. But maybe not. Sometimes, a girl needs to lose.

On Elsewhere we fool ourselves into thinking we know what will be just because we know the amount of time we have left. We know this, but we never really know what will be. We never know what will happen...

How much of your life had been happenstance? How much of your life had been a roll of the big polyhedral die in the sky? But then, weren't all lives that way? Who could say, in the end, that they had chosen any of it?

Maya knows that her mother left her in Island Books. But maybe that's what happens to all children at a certain age. Some children are left in shoe stores. And some children are left in toy stores. And some children are left in sandwich shops. And your whole life is determined by what store you get left in. She does not want to live in the sandwich shop.

He doesn't believe in "the one." There are zillions of people in the world; no one is that special.

Oh, all stories are the same, aren't they? Men and women fall in love or out of love. People are born; people die. It al ends happily or it all ends sadly, and the difference matters only to the people involved.

Maybe we'll meet again, when we are slightly older and our minds less hectic, and I'll be right for you and you'll be right for me. But right now, I am chaos to your thoughts and you are poison to my heart.

It's a tragic fact to die in an accident

You don't choose a book the book chooses you