Quotes About Hope

what is bad won't be bad forever, and what is good can sometimes last a long, long time.

For a long time, my mother's wasn't dead yet. Mine could have been a more tragic story. My father could have given in to the bottle or the needle or a woman and left my brother and me to care for ourselves - or worse, in the care of New York City Children's Services, where, my father said, there was seldom a happy ending. But this didn't happen. I know now that what is tragic isn't the moment. It is the memory.

I didn't know it would be people you barely knew becoming friends that harbored you. And dreams you didn't even know you had - coming true. I didn't know it would be superpowers rising up out of tragedies, and perfect moments in a nearly empty classroom.

I watched my brother watch the world, his sharp, too-serious brow furrowing down in both angst and wonder. Everywhere we looked, we saw the people trying to dream themselves out. As though there was someplace other than this place. As though there was another Brooklyn.

Tragedy is strange. It takes away. And it gives too" -Haley

So why was he feeling like this? Why was he feeling like some promise the universe made had been broken?

The empty swing set reminds us of this— that what is bad won't be bad forever, and what is good can sometimes last a long, long time.

Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams For when dreams go Life is a barren field Frozen with snow. —Langston Hughes

Maybe this is how it happened first for everyone —adults promising us their own failed future.

Ms. Johnson says each day holds its own memory - its own moments that we can write about later. She says we should always look for the moments and some of them might be perfect, filled with light and hope and laughter. Moments that stay with us forever and ever.

Before, you used to hear the word immigration and it sounded like everything you ever believed in. It sounded like feliz cumpleaños and merry Christmas and welcome home . But now you hear it and you get scared because it sounds like a word that makes you want to disappear. It sounds like someone getting stolen away from you.

Old people used to always say, You only as old as you feel. Here I am closer to fifty than forty, but I feel older than that most days. Feel like the world is trying to pull me down back into it.

Probably still believed that if you wished hard enough you could make the impossible happen.

we looked, we saw the people trying to dream themselves out. As though there was someplace other than this place. As though there was another Brooklyn. August

My Muslim beliefs lived just left of my heart. I was leaving space for something more promising.

she said she was going to live-that tomorrow wasn't guaranteed.

But sometimes living pulls back the skin of another life. A possibility.

When we meet characters in books, fall in love with them, cheer for them, we become more empathetic. More hopeful. More thoughtful about the bigger world.

The green of Tennessee faded quickly into the foreign world of Brooklyn, heat rising from cement. I thought of my mother often, lifting my hand to stroke my own cheek, imagining her beside me, explaining this newness, the fast pace of it, the impenetrable gray of it. When my brother cried, I shushed him, telling him not to worry. She's coming soon, I said, trying to echo her. She's coming tomorrow. And tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

We speak of it like it is always possible, but we never truly expect it.

If the heart did not feel, then there was no hope for the rest. Feeling was necessary to passion and caring and belief.

Maybe we don't get a long past. Maybe we just get a future.

Everyone yearns for heaven, and nothing binds you to the hope of eternal life like that kind of defeat on earth.

Surviving - that is the other name of a mourning whose possibility is never to be awaited.