Quotes About Hope

because slave life had busted her legs, back, head, eyes, hands, kidneys, womb and tongue, she had nothing left to make a living with but her heart--which she put to work at once. Accepting no title of honor before her name, but allowing a small caress after it, she became an unchurched preacher, one who visited pulpits and opened her great heart to those who could use it.

She wants you here as much as I do. For her it is to save her life. For me it is to have one.

Lay my head on the railroad line, Train come along, pacify my mind.

This is precisely the time when artists go to work—not when everything is fine, but in times of dread. That's our job!" Toni Morrison

My melancholy thoughts are back. But I still love the idea of love.

The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit, so when they broke its back, or shoved it in a croaker sack, well, maybe you'd have a little love left over for the next one.

his bed was where they slept and where the great thing people warned about or giggled about took place. It was not so much painful as dull. Cee thought it would get better later. Better turned out to be simply more, and while the quantity increased, its pleasure lay in its brevity.

You always end up back where you started: hungry for the one thing everybody loses – young loving.

In time the whole family perked up like Sesame Street puppets, hoping that cheer, if worked at hard enough, could sugar the living and quiet the dead.

It's gonna hurt now, said Amy, Anything dead coming back to life hurts.

she refused to believe that she had come all that way, endured all she had, to die on the wrong side of the river.

The one set of plans she had made—getting away from Sweet Home—went awry so completely she never dared life by making more.

Whatever happens, whether you get rich or stay poor, ruin your health or live to old age, you always end up back where you started: hungry for the one thing everybody loses- young loving.

Tú y yo tenemos más ayer que nadie. Necesitamos alguna suerte de mañana.

Sethe, he says, me and you, we got more yesterday than anybody. We need some kind of tomorrow. He leans over and takes her hand. With the other he touches her face. You your best thing, Sethe. You are. His holding fingers are holding hers. Me? Me?

The best thing was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit, so when they broke its back, or shoved it in a croaker sack, well maybe you'd have a little love left over for the next one.

She told them that the only grace they could have was the grace they could imagine. That if they could not see it, they could not have it

Sethe," he says, "me and you, we got more yesterday than anybody. We need some kind of tomorrow.

When he was drifting, thinking only about the next meal and night's sleep, when everything was packed tight in his chest, he had no sense of failure, of things not working out. Anything that worked at all worked out.

She told them that the only grace they could have was the grace they could imagine. That if they could not see it, they would not have it.

Women stopped crying and danced; men sat down and cried; children danced, women laughed, children cried until, exhausted and riven, all and each lay about the Clearing damp and gasping for breath.

Would it be all right? Would it be all right to go ahead and feel? Go ahead and count on something

A shudder ran through Paul D. A bone-cold spasm that made him clutch his knees. He didn't know if it was bad whiskey, nights in the cellar, pig fever, iron bits, smiling roosters, fired feet, laughing dead men, hissing grass, rain, apple blossoms, neck jewelry, Judy in the slaughterhouse, Halle in the butter, ghost-white stairs, chokecherry trees, cameo pins, aspens, Paul A's face, sausage or the loss of a red, red heart

Exactly the way old folks said: not when you call Him; not when you want Him; only when you need Him and right on time.