Quotes About Hope

Books can offer a counter narrative—another story to the one we think we know. Story is told in a voice. The voice of Bastard Out of Carolina is that of a young girl who has just lost her mother and her sense of any real hope or justice. You don't know who she is until the story ends, and I always intended for the ending to make the reader angry.

What do you hope for that you haven't got? What can that child give you?' There was a little silence. 'A virgin audience for my riddles, I believe,' said Lymond thoughtfully, at length. 'But it certainly poses an ungallant question.

The more modest your expectations, the less often you will court disappointment.

I am here, Brethren in Christ, to lead you, every man, woman and little child of the Faith, to freedom. God in His mercy be praised.' 'Then God in His mercy has arranged that we should lead them from the rear,' said Jerott Blyth thinly from the window. 'The entire garrison of Tripoli has just marched away.

The world is full,' said Jerott wearily, 'of people who might have wanted to meet Francis Crawford, and who are going to be disappointed.

I hope,' said Jerott, breathing softly and hard, 'that you never meet those who will judge what you have done. How would you recognize love? Or compassion? Francis at least has learned that.

So, although it was more than she ever dared hope for, it was not the same; and never would be.

Where there had been peace, now there was endurance. "He will awake," said Nostradamus. "You took a great risk, but he will awake, if that is what you want for him.

It was hard to say therefore why he did not go below, and rally his brother, and encourage him to let the past fade, and look forward to what lay before him. Unless, in his heart of hearts he recognized as Lymond did that what lay around him were shut gates; and what lay before him was nothing.

She may be hoping for Lug of the Long Arms but what she has is the family Crawford, qui peut de tous bois faire flèches in order to sit in the butts and shoot hearty rounds at each other.

My son ... my son,' said Francis Crawford before the blurred, failing candles, their light searching over his disordered, bent head and closed eyes and the long, scarred lines of his hands, laid flat on the steel. 'So small a spirit, to lodge such sorrows as mankind has brought you. Live ... live ... Wait for me, new, frightened soul. And though the world should reel to a puny death, and the wolves are appointed our godfathers, I will not fail you, ever.

A moment later the music began, and Kate shrank beneath the onslaught of its message: the fury of hope and joy that towered in the notes, outburning the sunlight and outpouring the volumes of the sea. All that was bold and noble and happy in created sound burst from the metempirical quills, and it was a blasphemy not to rejoice. Christian died in its midst, purposeful and successful; the last struggle unseen by anyone but Kate, and laying no bridle on the living.

If one believes in God, but has learned not to pray, one offers only, in silence, one's apologies, and then asks the spirit to do what it can.

Discomfort without hope of betterment is not a great springboard.

She drew herself up to her full height—it was a little difficult on a donkey—and said primly, "I have always found that in painful situations it is a sensible idea to take each hour as it comes and not to anticipate beyond. But oh how I wish I could have a bath!

The important thing is to carry the sun with you, inside of you at every moment, against the darkness. For there will be a great and terrifying darkness.

19I particularly urge you to pray so that I may be restored to you soon.

What do we find God 'doing about' this business of sin and evil?...God did not abolish the fact of evil; He transformed it. He did not stop the Crucifixion; He rose from the dead.

Even if it is the twilight of the world, before night falls I will sleep in your arms.' . . .

I've hated almost everything that ever happened to me, but I knew all the time it was just things that were wrong, not everything. Even when I felt most awful I never thought of killing myself or wanting to die - only of somehow getting out of the mess and starting again.

Ah, well, as the old pagan said of the Gospels, after all, it was a long time ago, and we'll hope it wasn't true.

Oh! are you detecting now?' 'Like anything. If you could take the top of my head off, you would see the wheels whizzing round.' 'I see. You're not detecting me, I hope.' 'Everybody always hopes that.

Well, well. What can't be cured must be endured. This is our last hope gone. We shall be reduced to ringing minors.

But we can never hope for a whole jury-box full of ecclesiastical diehards.