Quotes About Hope

It is excruciating to be an unbeliever with a spirit that is deeply religious... Poetry is a religion without hope.

Et qui refuserait au Phénix une bûche Pour le naïf espoir de renaître avec lui ? (Phénixologie)

Won't everything be all right if she's free?

Fortunately, the sun has a wonderfully glorious habit of rising every morning.

Fortunately, the sun has a wonderfully glorious habit of rising every morning. When

Sadness flies away on the wings of time.

Everyone believes very easily whatever he fears or desires.

I figured that when there's no way of knowing what the future holds it's just as easy to believe it'll be good as to believe it'll be bad.

It probably wouldn't last. It never does. But it would come back around again. That's how life works. And that's why it's important to treasure the peaceful times-so you can persevere through the other kind.

This is some kind of life, isn't it? Something good happening inside something bad.

There is a sound to waiting. It sounds like held breath pounding its fists against the walls of the lung, damp and muffled beats.

Gambling is only the resource of those who do not know what to do with themselves

Mother did not answer. She was still gazing up at the sky. After a while she said, I made up a sort of saying for myself, Nat. I will lift up my eyes unto the stars. Sometimes, if you look at the stars long enough, it helps. It shrinks your day-by-day troubles down to size. She smiled. 'We'd better go back. Granny and Father will be wondering where we are.

Wszyscy czekali Å'akomie na godzinÄ™ sÅ'odkich ciemnoÅ›ci, odpr??enia, zapomnienia, godzinÄ™, w czasie której ekran, lÅ›niÄ…cy jak biaÅ'y kamieÅ" w wodzie, bÄ™dzie mówiÅ' i marzyÅ' za nich.

Možda ?e i biti ljepših vremena, ali ovo je naše.

all greatness must first take its shape in dreams.

Time is our friend in trouble," she said, "because it tells us that the sorrow cannot last for ever.

I have been too unhappy, I thought, it cannot last, being so unhappy, it would kill you

I sit at my window and the words fly past me like birds — with God's help I catch some.

They think in terms of a sentimental ballad. And that's what terrifies you about them. It isn't their cruelty, it isn't even their shrewdness - it's their extraordinary naivete. Everything in their whole bloody world is a cliche. Everything is born out of a cliche, rests on a cliche, survives by a cliche. And they believe in the cliches - there's no hope

After all this, what happened? What happened was that, as soon as I had the slightest chance of a place to hide in, I crept into it and hid. Well, sometimes it's a fine day isn't it? Sometimes the skies are blue. Sometimes the air is light, easy to breathe. And there is always tomorrow...

Soon he'll come in again and kiss me, but differently. He'll be different and so I'll be different. It'll be different. I thought, 'It'll be different, different. It must be different.

Everything in their whole bloody world is a cliché. Everything is born out of a cliché, rests on a cliché, survives by a cliché. And they believe in the clichés - there's no hope.

I was thinking, 'I'm nineteen and I've got to go on living and living and living.