“...art is weaker than life - in the end I have a bag of letters to scrabble into order - rune tiles to cast my fate...”
“Is not our capacity to choose, to chase, to dream of becoming other than we are, more powerful then the patterns of the stars?”
“Hindi ako naniniwala sa fate, destiny at soul mates. Ang mundo ay binubuo ng mga pangyayaring random na kaganapan. Bahala ka sa buhay mo.”
“ما الجدوى من حمل مفكّرة إن كان القدر هو من يملك الممحاة.. والقلم”
“As you grow older, it becomes harder to feel 100 percent happy; you learn all the things that can go wrong, you become superstitious about tempting fate, about bringing disaster upon your life by accidentally feeling too good one day.”
“Beware what you speak, said the Merlin very softly, for indeed the words we speak make shadows of what is to come, and by speaking them we bring them to pass, my king.”
“Fate controls only the weak, Your Highness. The strong mould the providence the want”
“Some people think destiny is something you cannot escape, such as death or a curdled cheesecake, both of which always turn up sooner or later.”
“What is not brought to consciousness, comes to us as fate.”
“I was irritated by the way he conflated his own shifting needs with an impersonal destiny. I want it, therefore...it s in the stars!”
“All this was new to me. Life takes us by surprise and orders us to move towards the unknown - even when we don t want to and we think we don t need to.”
“Each of us carries a sleeping tiger inside, and we can’t predict when that cat will wake, stretch, and sharpen its claws.”
“He had to accept the fate of every newcomer to a small town where there are plenty of tongues that gossip and few minds that think.”
“... here s what I believe - sometimes God has a Plan B...”
“Atlas said, Must my future be so heavy? Hera said, That is your present, Atlas. Your future hardens every day, but it is not fixed. How can I escape my fate? You must choose your destiny.”
“Fate, they say, fate- the clay that molds the events of your life, and it was the same fate that had thrown the stone of her heart on the building of his expectations. But then wasn t it his fault that he had constructed the building of glass? Hadn t he failed to cement the bricks of his love with trust and colour them with security? There was no insurance for broken hearts, no ointment for wounded souls and there would never be one, he knew.”
“Why can’t I remember that not once have I ever seen a coin, whether grimy copper or bright gold, that had but one side.”