Quotes About Fate

He was watching me, his eyes as deep as earth. "Will you come with me?" he asked. The never-ending ache of love and sorrow. Perhaps in some other life I could have refused, could have torn my hair and screamed, and made him face his choice alone. But not in this one. He would sail to Troy and I would follow, even into death. "Yes," I whispered. "Yes.

I let the pebbles tumble to the ground from my fingers, where they lie, haphazard or purposeful, an augury or an accident. If Chiron were here, he could read them, tell us our fortunes. But he is not here. "What if he will not beg?" I ask. "Then he will die. They will all die. I will not fight until he does." His chin juts, bracing for reproach. I am worn out. My arm hurts where I cut it, and my skin feels coated with unwholesome sweat. I do not answer.

Prince Achilles! Aristos Achaion! As

There are times in life, little lady, he said, when we can only listen to the ticking of the clock of fate and wait for what is destined to happen. This is one of those times.

Sam, darling, when you suddenly look around you and see that—life itself is the basic magic, the real miracle, then we might have a chance. You are trying to impose your sense of order and fitness on the randomness of people and the illogic of fate. You want to refute the basic textures, the crazy mixture of life, and neaten it all up.

Sempre teremos de morrer

For whatsoe'er their sufferings were before, That change they covet makes them suffer more. All other errors but disturb a state; But innovation is the blow of fate.

Of no distemper, of no blast he died, But fell like autumn fruit that mellowed long — Even wondered at, because he dropped no sooner. Fate seemed to wind him up for fourscore years, Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more; Till like a clock worn out with eating time, The wheels of weary life at last stood still.

All things are subject to decay and when fate summons, monarchs must obey.

Tis Fate that flings the dice, And as she flings Of kings makes peasants, And of peasants kings.

Not Heaven itself upon the past has power, But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.

Frodo could not be a hero unless he was born into a story with many chapters already played out before his own. His moment derives its weight and urgency from the moments that have come before.

There is no plan. All is hazard. And the only thing that will preserve us is ourselves.

The world began in hazard and will end in it.

I don't believe in God. And I certainly don't feel chosen. I think you may be. I smiled dubiously. Thank you. It is not meant as a compliment. Hazard makes you elect. You cannot elect yourself.

Hazard has conditioned us to live in hazard. All our pleasures are dependant upon it. Even though I arrange for a pleasure; and look forward to it, my eventual enjoyment of it is still a matter of hazard. Wherever time passes, there is hazard. You may die before you turn the next page.

My only certainty in life is that I shall one day die. I can be certain of nothing else in the future. But either we survive (and so far in human history a vast majority has always survived) and having survived when we might not have done so gives us what we call happiness; or we do not survive and do not know it.

I understand that not everyone is so lucky; a precious few have it easier, but most have it harder. I might once have said that you make that kind of luck for yourself, and in some ways you do, but it's just as often true that people end up where they are through no fault of their own and are then faced with making the best of it.

Darwin's theory shows the truth of naturalism: we are animals like any other; our fate and that of the rest of life on Earth are the same. Yet, in an irony all the more exquisite because no one has noticed it, Darwinism is now the central prop of the humanist faith that we can transcend our animal natures and rule the Eart.

As Mike Roberts watched Tommy enter the building, he could not imagine that the boy was taking his last steps in the free world. The rest of his life would be behind prison walls.

Ray Chapman was killed by a pitch in 1920. Mickey Cochrane never played again after taking one in the head. Tony Conigliaro was a certain Hall of Famer, then he got beaned in the eye. I

She was as responsible for his death as he was for hers. Above them, they left behind two fine children who didn't deserve to be punished for the sins of their parents.

Yet by some stroke of almost providential good fortune, he became wanted.

Marley fez-me pensar no carácter efémero da vida, nas suas alegrias passageiras e oportunidades perdidas. Fez-me lembrar que só temos uma chance de chegar ao ouro, sem repetições.