Fate’ and ‘coincidence’ are the mythological derivatives authored by those who refuse to see a ‘greater purpose’, because such a conclusion would naturally suggest a ‘Greater Being’.

I simply can’t look into the heavens on a crisp starry night and somehow bring myself to believe that the gaping expanse that engulfs the whole of me is the product of chance happenstance. And neither can I believe that the gaping expanse that rests within me is anything less.

If we are merely a chance product of ‘random happenstance’ and nothing more, doesn’t it strike you as a bit odd that we have the ability to contemplate the question of ‘random happenstance’ with such methodical complexity?

Hope is not some thin thing that is subject to the winds of fate, but it is crafted hard by the hands of God.

I paved the path to the very place I don’t want to be. But passing the blame off to someone else doesn’t put me any place else.

I’m not the author of my fears, but I sure feed them really well.