Quotes About Fate

It was all over with him. Marius loved a woman. His destiny was entering upon the unknown.

He sleeps. Although his fate was very strange, he lived. He died when he had no longer his angel. The thing came to pass simply, of itself, as the night comes when day is gone.

Man is at the mercy of events. Life is a perpetual succession of events, and we must submit to it. We never know from what quarter the sudden blow of chance will come. Catastrophe and good fortune come upon us and then depart, like unexpected visitors. They have their own laws, their own orbits, their own gravitational force, all independent of man.

He had to submit to the fate of every newcomer in a small town, where many tongues talk but few heads think.

He seemed to say to Fate: You wouldn't dare.

Carve as we will the mysterious block of which our life is made, the black vein of destiny constantly reappears in it.

Death does not concern me. He who takes his first step uses perhaps his last shoes. (Halmalo)

We chip away as best we can at the mysterious block of marble our lives are made of- in vain; the black vein of destiny always reappears.

To blame or praise men on account of the result, is almost like praising or blaming figures on account of the sum total. Whatever is to happen, happens; whatever is to blow, blows. The eternal serenity does not suffer from these north winds. Above Revolutions, Truth and Justice reign, as the starry heavens above the tempest.

Whither will suffering lead me? To nothingness; but I shall have suffered. Whither will enjoyment lead me? To nothingness; but I shall have enjoyed myself.

It is an error to imagine that fate can be exhausted, and that one has reached the bottom of anything whatever.

Catastrophes have a somber way of arranging things.

Do what we may to shape the mysterious stuff of which our lives are composed, the dark threads of our destiny will always re-emerge.

Or, donner la grosse cloche en mariage à Quasimodo, c'était donner Juliette à Roméo.

He fell to the seat, she by his side. There were no more words. The stars were beginning to shine. How was it that their lips met? How is it that the birds sing, the the snow melts, that the rose opens, that May blooms, that the dawn whitens behind the black trees on the shivering summit of the hills?

Was it possible that Napoleon should have won that battle? We answer No. Why? Because of Wellington? Because of Blucher? No. Because of God.

Sad fate! he would enter into sanctity only in the eyes of God when he returned to infamy in the eyes of men.

Jehan, Jehan! All this will have a bad end. It'll have had a good beginning.

The unforeseen, that strange, haughty power which plays with man, had seized Gauvain and held him fast.

Maintenant je suis captif. Mon corps est aux fers dans un cachot, mon esprit est en prison dans une idee. Une horrible, une sanglante, une implacable idee! Je n'ai plus qu'une pense, qu'une conviction, qu'une certitude: condamne a mort!

The greatest favorites of destiny make mistakes. Our joys are composed of shadow. The supreme smile is God's alone.

Everybody has noticed the way cats stop and loiter in a half-open door. Hasn't everyone said to a cat: For heaven's sake, why don't you come in? With opportunity half-open in front of them, there are men who have a similar tendency to remain undecided between two solutions, at the risk of being crushed by fate abruptly closing the opportunity. The overprudent, cats as they are, and because they are cats, sometimes run more danger than the bold.

He fell to the seat, she by his side. There no more words. The stars were beginning to shine. How was it that their lips met? How is it that the birds sing, the the snow melts, that the rose opens, that May blooms, that the dawn whitens behind the black trees on the shivering summit of the hills?

In vain we chisel, as best we can, the mysterious block of which our life is made, the black vein of destiny reappears continuously.