Quotes About Hope

Castaways on the shores of loneliness

My diving bell becomes less oppressive, and my mind takes flight like a butterfly. There is so much to do. You can wander off in space or in time, set out for Tierra del Fuego or for King Midas's court.

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Some evenings I have the impression that Grandpapa Noirtier patrols our corridors in a century-old wheelchair sadly in need of a drop of oil. To foil the decrees of fate, I am now planning a vast saga in which the key witness is not a paralytic but a runner. You never know. Perhaps it will work.

While I can't have you, I long for you. I am the kind of person who would miss a train or a plane to meet you for coffee. I'd take a taxi across town to see you for ten minutes. I'd wait outside all night if I thought you would open the door in the morning. If you call me and say 'Will you…' my answer is 'Yes', before your sentence is out. I spin worlds where we could be together. I dream you. For me, imagination and desire are very close.

The body shuts down when it has too much to bear; goes its own way quietly inside, waiting for a better time, leaving you numb and half alive.

Happy Valentines Day to those who have found love, in whatever shape or form, and to those who are still hunting, don't give up. If you feel bad, send yourself a card. You must be worth it...

And faith, which is but hope grown wise, and love And patience, which at last shall overcome." Lowell.

True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings;

If I die, I will wait for you, do you understand? No matter how long. I will watch from beyond to make sure you live every year you have to its fullest, and then we'll have so much to talk about when I see you again… (Bones)

That these people would leave their homes, their cultures, their families, even their languages, and venture into tremendous peril, risking their very lives, all for the chance to get to the dream of some faraway country that doesn't even want them.

There's a blessing in the moments after terror and before confirmation.

She'd hoped, like one of those desert rattlesnakes, to shed the skin of her anguish and leave it behind her in the Mexican dirt.

for every wickedness, there is an equal and opposite possibility of redemption. In any

As Rebeca reveals what scraps of story she does have to Luca, he starts to understand that this is the one thing all migrants have in common, this is the solidarity that exists among them, though they all come from different places and different circumstances, some urban, some rural, some middle-class, some poor, some well educated, some illiterate, Salvadoran, Honduran, Guatemalan, Mexican, Indian, each of them carries some story of suffering on top of that train and into el norte beyond.

Less than two weeks ago, dirt on the floor in her hallway was a thing that could annoy her. It's unimaginable. The reality of what happened is so much worse than the very worst of her imaginary fears had ever been. But it could be worse still.

También de este lado hay sueños. On this side, too, there are dreams.

The book is water in the desert.

No one can stay in a brutal, bloodstained place.

There were thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit. There were grief and ruins, and you were the miracle.

To have hope in these times is an act of courage. To experience catastrophic sadness, to recognize the brutality of life, and still maintain hope--That is everything. Because in order to flourish in the desert, to grow in the bleak, shallow dust and still believe in the possibility of beauty requires a special kind of persistence, It's not only patience and grit and strength, I realized. It's also faith.

She's aware that she and her companions represent something to these men. They look like home. Or they look like salvation. Or they look like prey. To an halcón they might look like reward money.

And she'd believed, truly, that Javier wouldn't hurt them. What she wouldn't give to go back to that moment with Sebastián, to say anything else.

She sticks her hand through the fence and wiggles her fingers on the other side. Her fingers are in el norte. She spits through the fence. Only to leave a piece of herself there on American dirt.