Often the prudent, far from making their destinies, succumb to them; it is destiny which makes them prudent.

I like the dreams of the future better than the history of the past.

It would be madness, and inconsistency, to suppose that things which have never yet been performed can be performed without employing some hitherto untried means.

Men are able to assist fortune but not to thwart her. They can weave her designs, but they cannot destroy them.

Not a change for the better in our human housekeeping has ever taken place that wise and good men have not opposed it—have not prophesied that the world would wake up to find its throat cut in consequence.

Time will reveal everything. It is a babbler and speaks even when not asked.

God seems to have left the receiver off the hook, and time is running out.

Fate leads the willing and drags along those who hang back.

Tomorrow never comes, man. It’s all the same fucking day.

Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.

Real generosity toward the future lies in giving all to the present.

The future, like everything else, is no longer quite what it used to be.

The less a man knows about the past and the present, the more insecure must prove to be his judgment of the future.