the inevitability [Theme] Page 3

People are lonely by nature. Rely on others, be gentle and responsible. Such a connection will never overcome fate.

The bonds of people are fragile, in order to reign over fate, there is no other choice for me except to become God and create a new world.

Our fate is decided by struggle, by what we ourselves achieve.

- A vampire's dreams are full of blood. The witch's dreams burn in sapphire flames. The werewolf's dreams are drowned in the moonlight. They dream of their fate, but they do not yet know about it. For now, they are just people.

What you think is what you get.

Perhaps fate is just a reflection of the character of the person himself. He himself attracts certain events and certain people.

Witches do not believe in fate, or rather, they do not believe in it in the sense in which ordinary people believe in fate. Many say: fate, and this, once hidden, but now worn out like old shoes, word immediately becomes for them the answer to everything that they cannot explain in any way. The witch, in turn, knows that fate is a complex mechanism with arrows that always point to something and offer to follow in a given direction.

If a person admits that he has absolutely no control over death, which awaits him at every turn, and if he allows this thought to take over his consciousness, he will plunge into such fear and trembling that he will find himself on the verge of madness.

Fate has nothing to do with it. Each person creates his own destiny, this is an old truth and this has always been the case. Nobody took this right from us.

- Does the iron know exactly where the magnet is hidden?

I must sail where fate has destined me and turn my back to the beautiful shores.

I don't know what's really going on in heaven, if there's a giant staircase in heaven or a movie theater where you can see everything you've influenced in a sort of "Crash"-type adventure movie. But I know for sure that this is how our stories are arranged: the prints that we leave on the palms of others have the ability to pass from hand to hand. The smallest of our actions, which we forget, can help someone survive and endure. I have ceased to doubt such an impact, because faith in it - faith in miracles in the mud of everyday life - gives you a sense of purpose.

I never published it. Maybe one day I will. It's good to know that there is a bulletin board that holds all hope, and that all the places we go and the people we stare at and the letters we leave for others to find are not in vain.

No matter how you look at it, it was a blinding train wreck, a collision between two people who didn't know how to give up on each other once and for all. I thought (and almost every cell in my brain was at attention, waiting) that he would leave her. So I opened the doors for him that I swore never to open. I laid out my complexes on the table, like playing cards. I pretended that I was the only one. But - no, I never planned to be that other girl.