There is no such thing as accident; it is fate misnamed

The rain, it falls. The sun, it shines. The wind blows. And that’s what it’s like. You’re buffeted by this, by that, and it is nothing to do with you. Someone you love dies, or leaves. You get ill or you get better. You grow old and you remember, or you forget. And all the time, everywhere, there is this canopy stretching over you.
What canopy?
Things-as-they-are. Fate. Fate. Impersonal. Irrational. Disinterested. The rain falls. The sun shines. The wind blows. A bus mounts a pavement and kills a child. ...
I believe in no systems, no ideologies, no religion, nothing like that. I simply think – Oh, it’s very very boring, this. Very – I just think that from time to time, and at random, you are visited by what you cannot know cannot predict cannot control cannot change cannot understand and cannot cannot cannot escape – Fate. Why not? ‘S good old word.


--The Singing Detective
--Dennis Potter

To be or not to be

"In every generation, there are a few souls, call them lucky or cursed, who are simply born not belonging, who come into the world without strong affiliation to family or location or nation or race; those who value stability, who fear transience, uncertainty, change, have erected a powerful system of stigmas and taboos against rootlessness so that we mostly conform, we hide our secret identities beneath false skins of those identities which bear the belongers' seal of approval. But the truth leaks out in our dreams; alone in our beds—because we are all alone at night, even if we do not sleep by ourselves—we soar, we fly, we flee."


--Salman Rushdie