Quotes About Fate

He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear: And you all know, security Is mortals' chiefest enemy.

Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end; Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend.

Blind is his love and best befits the dark- Benvolio

And will 'a not come again? And will 'a not come again? No, no, he is dead, Go to thy death bed: He will never come again.

Our wills and fates do so contrary run, that our devices still are overthrown; our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.

for Mercutio's soul Is but a little way above our heads, Staying for thine to keep him company: Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.

Mañana, y mañana, y mañana se arrastra con paso mezquino día tras día hasta la sílaba final del tiempo escrito, y la luz de todo nuestro ayer guió a los bobos hacia el polvo de la muerte. ¡Apágate, apágate breve llama! La vida es una sombra que camina, un pobre actor que en escena se arrebata y contonea y nunca más se le oye. Es un cuento que cuenta un idiota, lleno de ruido y de furia, que no significa nada.

There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walk under his huge legs and peep about To find ourselves dishonorable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

what ho, apothecary!

This feather stirs; she lives! if it be so, it is a chance which does redeem all sorrows that ever I have felt.

What must be shall be.

O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die

Golden lads and girls all must as chimney sweepers come to dust.

If she lives till doomsday, she'll burn a week longer than the whole world.

Los placeres violentos poseen finales violentos y tienen en su triunfo su propia muerte, del mismo modo en que se consumen el fuego y la pólvora en un beso voraz.

This world's a city full of straying streets, and death's the market-place where each one meets.

The time is out of joint—O cursèd spite, That ever I was born to set it right!

This day's black fate on more days doth depend; This but begins the woe, others must end.

It will rain tonight. First Murderer: Let it come down.

o, never shall sun that morrow see

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life, Whose misadventured piteous overthrows Doth with their death bury their parents' strife. . . . O, I am fortune's fool! . . . Then I defy you, stars.

I think, said antonio , that the world is astage. Everybody has a part to play , and my part is sad part .

Well, we were born to die.