Quotes About Hope

Well, the rain had stopped but the pain was still there.

There's a light somewhere. It may not be much light but it beats the darkness.

we must bring our own light to the darkness.

as long as there are human beings about there is never going to be any peace for any individual upon this earth (or anywhere else they might escape to). all you can do is maybe grab ten lucky minutes here or maybe an hour there. something is working toward you right now, and I mean you and nobody but you.

There still might be a place for us somewhere.

Let it die. Let there be a new beginning. It's awful. Goodnight.

I knew that I was dying. Something in me said, Go ahead, die, sleep, become as them, accept. Then something else in me said, no, save the tiniest bit. It needn't be much, just a spark. A spark can set a whole forest on fire. Just a spark. Save it.

We've died so many times now that we can only wonder why we still care.

there is a place in the heart that will never be filled a space and even during the best moments and the greatest times we will know it we will know it more than ever there is a place that will never be filled and we will wait and wait in that space.

she's half-insane, looking for an out; she's hard, she's scared, she's been fooled, taken, abused, used, over-used . . . but, under all that, to me she's the flower, I see her as she was before she was ruined by the lies: theirs and hers.

theres no chance at all: we are all trapped by a singular fate. nobody ever finds the one.

I could never accept life as it was, I could never gobble down all its poisons bu there were parts, tenuous magic parts open for the asking.

it was going to be all right. at last. for a while.

I once lay in a white hospital for the dying and the dying self, where some god pissed a rain of reason to make things grow only to die, where on my knees I prayed for LIGHT, I prayed for l*i*g*h*t, and praying crawled like a blind slug into the web where threads of wind stuck against my mind and I died of pity for Man, for myself, on a cross without nails, watching in fear as the pig belches in his sty, farts, blinks and eats.

That's how they hooked you—they gave you just enough to keep alive but they never gave you enough so you could finally escape.

we drove on and on, past little villages and both good things and bad things were happening to the people in those villages too, but I still was nothing but arms and ears and eyes and maybe there'd be either some good luck for me or more death tomorrow.

When I went to the Yellow Cab Company I passed the Cancer Building and I remembered that there were worse things than looking for a job you didn't want.

There is light somewhere.

And then along came Hemingway. What a thrill! He knew how to lay down a line. It was a joy. Words weren't dull, words were things that could make your mind hum. If you read them and let yourself feel the magic, you could live without pain, with hope, no matter what happened to you.

Life wore a man out, wore a man thin. Tomorrow would be a better day.

Words weren't dull, words were things that could make your mind hum. If you read them and let yourself feel the magic, you could live without pain, with hope, no matter what happened to you.

I remember when each 4th lot was vacant and overgrown, and the landlord only go this rent when you had it, and each day was clear and good and each moment was full of promise.

You could sit in there all day drinking coffee and they never asked you to leave no matter how bad you looked. They just asked the bums not to bring their wine and drink it there. Places like that gave you hope when there wasn´t much hope.

He's sick on the dream. We're all sick on the dream, that's why we're out here.