Quotes About Hope

I need words and print... I need print like an addict. I could live without it, perhaps. But I hope I never have to try.

Because if one has an image, however dim and romantic, of a journey's end, one may, in the end, surely reach it, after no matter how many detours and deceptions and abandonings of hope. And hope could never have been entirely abandoned, even in the worst days.

Too much of the world was inhospitable, intractable... Why prove that it had ever once been green?

The journey to joy begins with acceptance.

But the spiritual growth we experience in trying times, though often more gradual and painful than we'd like, is occasion for celebration. It's not in the absence of difficulties but in their presence that God bestows a mighty blessing on us.

Mourning is a river that carries us to joy. Sometimes we need to give space for grief in order to make room for joy.

They left soon thereafter, Joliffe leading Tisbe, Basset walking with Ellis in excited talk on the cart's far side, Rose following behind, hand-in-hand with Piers, out of the Penteney gateway, headed for the eastward road, for Aylesbury and places beyond, the world looking a far brighter place than it had looked for a while and a long while past.

As long as the sun rose each day, as long as they could behold it, there life was secure.

When we are ready, the gods send what we need.

Indeed, there seems to be some evidence not only that all love is based on illusion — but that love positively requires illusion in order to endure.

Whatever their names or pedigree, snowdrops were something to look forward to - the earliest and bravest of the brave spring bulbs, defying the winter gloom.

Margaret Mayhew

whatever they were about. The Colonel said, 'Has her suitcase been found?' 'Not much hope of that.

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed, citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.

Never believe that a few caring people can't change the world. For indeed that's all who ever have.

Scarlett, always save something to fear—even as you save something to love.

So I have. Let me hold the baby, Scarlett. Oh, I know how to hold babies. I have many strange accomplishments. Well, he certainly looks like Frank. All except the whiskers, but give him time." "I hope not. It's a girl.

She [Melanie] is the only dream I ever had that lived and breathed and did not die in the face of reality.

It's a very bad thing for a woman to face the worst that can happen to her, because after she's faced the worst she can't ever really fear anything again. And it's very bad for a woman not to be afraid of something ... always have something to fear - even as you save something to love ... and don't think you can lay down the load, ever. Because you can't.

I want peace. I want to see if somewhere there isn't something left in life of charm and grace.

And if we folks have a motto, it's this: 'Don't holler — smile and bide your time.' We've survived a passel of things that way, smiling and biding our time, and we've gotten to be experts at surviving.

It seems we've been at cross purposes, doesn't it? But it's no use now. As long as there was Bonnie, there was a chance that we might be happy. I liked to think that Bonnie was you, a little girl again, before the war, and poverty had done things to you. She was so like you, and I could pet her, and spoil her, as I wanted to spoil you. But when she went, she took everything.

With the spirit of her people those who would not know defeat, even when it stared them in the face, she raised her chin. She could get Rhett back. She knew she could. There had never been a man she couldn't get, once she set her mind upon him. I'll think of it all tomorrow at Tara. I can strand it then. Tomorrow , I'll think of some way to get him back. After all, tomorrow is another day.

It was unreal, grotesquely unreal, that morning skies which dawned so tenderly blue could be profaned with cannon smoke that hung over the town like low thunder clouds, that warm noontides filled with the piercing sweetness of massed honeysuckle and climbing roses could be so fearful, as shells screamed into the streets, bursting like the crack of doom, throwing iron splinters hundreds of yards, blowing people and animals to bits.