225 Quotes About Second-chances

The vibrant matte amethyst dial made the gleaming hour and minute markers seem to come alive. The long, thick hands were fragile, yet ceaselessly ticking by, like life itself. Countless hours must have been invested in the bezel, meticulously hashed all the way around. The tachymeter claimed prominence as if asserting that distance travelled over time should be of paramount importance. Never had the sheer pace and inevitability of time been better captured in an object.

Death can’t be cheated, but there are endless ways that life can be lived.

She watched him from afar and gave him the time and space to travel the emotional rollercoaster, commencing at stunned, progressing to upset and lurking at angry. Then he brooded and grieved for the end of his life as he knew it.

And that was the thing, wasn’t it? When life rode on its highs, you wanted it to go on forever. But in the depths of the invariable dives, you’d be happy to be put out of your misery, because whatever awaited beyond this life had to be better than this shit on Earth.

Anaya sensed her opportunity and stole a moment to take in what Emberswick looked like in her teens. Still an engineering town, with a heap of lumber mills to show for it. It had been systematically envisioned and built around lush, small woods and pretty, little parks, spotted with bubbling fountains. A charming place to live, with a pleasant pace of life, and the people were just as engaging.

The words and phrases had so much more gravitas in her adult mind. She felt a sharp pang of guilt as she realized the extent of what she hadn’t been aware of, and how little compassion she’d had as an actual teen.

How readily we crush our dreams, without even turning over the first stone, so willing to be the victims of circumstance! She felt utterly miserable on behalf of all the teenagers the world over and allowed herself a few minutes more self-pity for the life she’d wasted, and the ones so many more would throw away. Doing as you pleased at this age, without seeking the help and advice of those qualified to give it, equaled marching into a minefield.

Fueled by rage at God, or whoever else came up with the preposterous concept of free will, Anaya turned more corners. My challenges were cruel to the core. With so many choices to make in life, the line was hair-thin between success and failure, having money or being broke, being loved or hated, alive or dead.

Her regularly squared and french-tipped nails were dangerously chipped and jagged, and she touched her platinum hair so often that it had started to look like the kinked bristles of an overused toothbrush.