Destiny (n.) is a cable coiled round a capstan: its knots and stains appear only as it pays out, yet each was already in the coil.
Destiny (n.) is what the unformed charge in you feels like when it meets other people's charges: a meaning discovered together, not a script.
Destiny (n.) is a yoke, Epicurus held: it would be better to believe the myths of the gods than to bow beneath the fate the physicists impose.
Destiny (n.) is a single woven cloth only if you insist the cosmos is one giant individual; Carneades let free wills be threads that enter from outside.
Destiny (n.) turns the individual into a substance, and so cannot account for inhibition and disorder; history as a whole must be summoned instead.
Destiny (n.) is what a closed future looks like: in Plato's myth souls choose new lives from the leftovers of old desires, and the god declines responsibility, so nothing new ever gets in.
Destiny (n.) is the moment the line of your life coincides with the reality of the world, by way of a network of exceptional gestures.