Quotes About Hope

This was the nadir, surely. They had no further to fall.

You only saw the darkness, Tammy. There was another side to her. I think there always is, don't you? There's always some light in the darkness, somewhere.

That which can be imagined need never be lost.

what would a Resurrection be without a few laughs?

It was what his mother would have done in the circumstances. Boiled some fresh water, warmed the pot and counted out the spoonfuls of tea. Setting domestic order against the chaos, in the hope of winning some temporary reprieve from the vale of tears.

That which is imagined need never be lost.

Heaven will provide. Or else it won't, and I'll go hungry.

What time didn't steal from under your nose, circumstance did. It was useless to hope otherwise. Useless to dream that the world somehow meant you good.

When it was all done, Suzanna found her voice, thanking both the grave diggers and their mothers. "After all that digging," said the eldest of the girls, "I just hope he grows." "He will," said her mother, with no trace of indulgence. "They always do." On

She would wait and watch, as she had always watched and waited, hoping that such a puzzle would one day come to her. But if it failed to show itself she would not grieve too deeply, for fear that the mending of broken hearts be a puzzle neither wit nor time had the skill to solve.

Like a prisoner without hope of parole she took what entertainment she could find to ease the passage of time.

Hayal edilen asla yitirilmez.

Hold on,' he shouted to the woman, realizing even as he spoke that she wasn't holding anything at all, but guessing that 'hang in there' would have had a terrible ring to it.

If Pitt tells you there's a Santa Claus, hang your stocking on the mantel, because you better believe it.

To my new friends. May misfortune follow you the rest of your lives, but never catch up.

Rakkaus - - vaanii meitä kuin kuolema ja verot.

Life is monstrous, but life is beautiful

The simple fact is that evil preys on good, and today, good had a bad day. Which brings with it an acceptance of the other side of that argument, that tomorrow might be evil's turn for some rain. And that's called hope.

Most people can't truly conceive of being in a place where death might be preferable to life. Life is strong. It grips you in many ways, from the beating of your heart, to the sun on your face, to the feel of the ground beneath your feet. It grasps you.

The symphony of motherhood, it's about loving with absolute abandon, loving without regard for self, loving with a near totality of being. It's about a passion that could outburn the sun with its brightness. About a depthless hope and a fierce, rending joy.

It's so curious: one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer... and everything collapses.

Hope costs nothing.

So now, whenever I despair, I no longer expect my end, but some bit of luck, some commonplace little miracle which, like a glittering link, will mend again the necklace of my days.

Sometimes a journey arises out of hope and instinct, the heady conviction, as your finger travels along the map: Yes, here and here ... and here. These are the nerve-ends of the world ...