Quotes About Perfect Timing

After transferring into an elite high school, I was bullied. However, it was not my classmates that bullied me; it was every object in the school. The private bathroom in my dorm only ran icy cold water when I showered, forcing me to trek to the public bathhouse in the dead of winter. When I begged the dorm supervisor, Mrs. Linda Mercer, to submit a repair request, she rolled her eyes and said, "The students who lived here last year never had this problem. Why is it suddenly broken when you move in?" My student ID card never worked in the library or the cafeteria. Every single time, it failed to scan, and I had to register manually. The multimedia equipment in the classroom froze whenever I touched it, dragging down the entire class schedule. I went to the teachers for help. They frowned and complained instead. "Everyone else can use it just fine. Why does it only malfunction when you do?" Even my deskmate rolled her eyes and mocked me. "You put on such a show every day. You are the only one who's so special. Are we supposed to stop studying just for you?" One strange incident after another completely isolated me at my new school. I cried and begged my parents to let me transfer again. They said, "The college entrance exam is right around the corner. Stop making trouble. Just endure it, and it will pass." I listened. I decided to grit my teeth and push through. Then, on the day of the college entrance exam, the security gate malfunctioned and started leaking electricity. Everyone else was fine. I was the only one who was electrocuted to death on the spot. Until the moment I died, I could not understand why the entire school seemed to be pushing me out. I was just a newly transferred student who had no grudges with anyone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I arrived to register at the new school.

After I dropped out of school, my parents didn't pressure me to do anything. But Nicole Hicks kept calling nonstop. She was my boyfriend's childhood friend who had established a reputation as a genius. I was too busy helping out in the fields, growing vegetables, and splashing around in the creek, living my best carefree life. Writing code wasn't even on my mind. In my past life, she had turned in a project just one day before I did. Her codes were exactly the same as mine. Everyone called me a fraud and said I had stolen it. I tried to explain, but no one believed me. Later, she even did a livestream, accusing me online of being a school bully. People went wild. They didn't just come for me—they went after my whole family. Some obsessed troll chased my parents in a car, and they died in a crash. I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped off a high-rise, my eyes still wide open, refusing to accept the way it all ended. Even in my last moment, I couldn't figure it out. That code was mine. My hard work. So how did she manage to post it before me? When I opened my eyes again, I was back, right before everything fell apart.

My in-laws were hit by a car crash. I called my husband, begging him to give me some money to pay the hospital bill. He said, "Oh, if you want money, just come out with it. That excuse is terrible!" He hung up on me. Despite how unfair it felt, I had to call him again. This time, a voice I was familiar with hit my ears. A woman's voice. "Chris, I got a bit too much sunscreen on my hand. Can I smear the rest on your abs?" Lovingly, my husband said, "You little troublemaker." His parents died that night. Overseas.

I grabbed an extra work meal to entertain a client. My boyfriend's sister saw it and went ballistic, docking my entire $500K commission. She pointed at my nose and screamed, "Are you taking me for a fool? You're just hiding behind 'client entertainment' to rip off the company! It's shameful, damaging the company's image! All of your commission for this month will be deducted as a warning to others." The client looked at me, wide-eyed in shock. I shrugged. "Do what makes you happy. Just don't regret it later." From then on, I started slacking off, and she freaked out.

I'm at an auction with my mother-in-law, Agnes Bachert. She spots a breathtaking emerald necklace, and we end up winning it for 30 million dollars. The auctioneer signals for payment. To make things easier, Agnes suggests charging it to my father-in-law Otto Garrett's account. But just as she says this, a flashy middle-aged woman and a young woman storm over. The younger woman, Janette Saccone, grabs Agnes' arm while the middle-aged woman, Ruth Coleman, slaps her hard. "I knew something was off!" Ruth snarls. "You're a nasty old bitch for destroying my family and trying to seduce my husband! I hope you suffer!" I rush to shield Agnes. "Are you okay?" Ruth's sharp gaze snaps onto me when she hears me speak. "Your mother-in-law has no shame, throwing herself at rich men. And you're not even embarrassed for her?" I step in front of Agnes and tell Ruth that I'm married into the Garrett family, then demand to know who she is. Ruth gives me a cold, arrogant look. "Who am I? I'm Otto Garrett's legal wife—the one he married officially!" She gives me a look of pure contempt. "And who are you to question me?" Before I can say a single word, she pulls out her phone and dials a number. "Clement, my dear son, get to the auction house right now! Help me catch this homewrecker!" Clement Garrett? That's my husband. Since when does he have another mother?

My daughter accidentally scratched my husband's young mistress's face with her nails. For that, my husband had her fingers chopped off. Covered in blood, she came home seeking help, only to be assaulted by an intruder. I called my husband, crying, but his mistress's sweet voice answered the phone. "Stop using these lowly tricks to get Jack's attention. All you're doing is making him sick!" I begged my husband to take my call, but all I got in return was a barrage of insults. "Nothing is more important than Yvonne's face! I'm busy taking her to the hospital! I don't have time for your drama!" Later, my daughter's organs were removed by the intruder. Even in death, she was still tightly holding onto the birthday gift she had prepared for her father. My husband, a top lawyer, personally defended the criminal who assaulted our daughter. He let that man walk away scot-free after what he had done. On the day he celebrated his birthday with all our relatives, he finally knew that our daughter had died. He completely lost his mind.

When the power meter in the house trips, Mom's foster daughter, Juniper Hawthorne, is trapped in the dark for five minutes. Even though I have claustrophobia, Mom locks me in an empty, pitch-black room. "You knew Juniper was terrified of the dark, yet you intentionally shut off the power just to frighten her! I'll teach you how to behave today!" I cry and beg her not to, but all I receive in return is a harsh slap. "Claustrophobia? That's just what happens when a kid grows up too spoiled." Late that night, I sense someone breaking into the house. The first thing I do is to call Mom, a renowned criminal psychologist, for help, only to be yelled at. "You're still really getting into this role just to fight Juniper for attention, aren't you? "Kidnappers, huh? Well, go ahead and die so you'll stop bothering me!" As she wishes, I'm brutally tortured and killed. My body is buried beneath Mom's favorite flowerbed. After I die, my soul is trapped in the body of a cat. All I can do is helplessly circle Mom until five days have passed. The police arrive with a mangled body and request her help in creating a portrait of the killer.

After being reborn, the first thing I did was forge a medical report diagnosing chronic kidney disease. In my previous life, my nephew had been diagnosed with kidney failure, and he needed a transplant to survive. I rushed to get a matching test and donated one of my kidneys to him. But over time, my health deteriorated. At twenty, my body felt like it belonged to someone eighty. Even simple chores like sweeping the floor left me exhausted. I couldn't go out to work or earn a living, yet my brother and sister-in-law scolded me for "pretending to be sick." "It's just a kidney." my sister-in-law snapped. "Do you expect to leech off our family forever?" She even went so far as to buy a pair of fresh pig kidneys and smash them in my face. "Since we took one of yours, here's a new pair. Happy now?" Because I had lost a kidney, I died before the age of thirty, alone in a rented apartment. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back—before my nephew's diagnosis even came in.

After my third dive in search of my missing boyfriend, I suffer a miscarriage. When I wake up in the hospital and find out he's still alive, I rip out the IV and drag myself home. But as I approach the house, I overhear Beck Wilder talking to his friends. "Maren had a child with her ex-husband. Who knows if she's really over him? "I can't go through with the wedding without being sure. I'd rather set a trap to see if she'd risk everything for me." Someone hesitates. "What if she finds out you lied? She might get furious and leave you." Beck chuckles confidently. "She's a breeze to manipulate. I'll make her sign the marriage papers and host a lavish wedding. She'll be as meek as a kitten." Two weeks later, I leave the miscarriage report on the wedding dress and walk away. The once-proud heir of the Wilder family is left in tears, scouring every inch of Larkspur in desperate search of his runaway bride.

After I come back to decades ago, the first thing I do is feed a million-dollar production patent to the pigs. In my previous life, I handed that patent over to the government. My husband turned me in, accusing me of faking the data and scamming a fortune in patent royalties. Overnight, I went from being a celebrated genius researcher to a lying thief that everyone despised. As I prepared to pull out my manuscript to prove my innocence, my husband's childhood sweetheart beat me to it. She waved it in front of everyone and accused me of misconduct and plagiarism. My husband took her side, reprimanding me, "I know you've always been jealous of Juni for being well-educated, but I can't believe you were bold enough to steal her hard work. What are you going to do next? Embezzle state funds?" I couldn't defend myself. No matter what I said, no one chose to believe me. The other researchers assaulted me so badly that I bled out and died. After my death, my husband and his childhood sweetheart took my patent without a second thought. The never-ending stream of patent royalties made them rich and powerful. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the very day she accuses me of stealing.