Quotes About Hope

For the first time in a very long time, he yearned to see tomorrow. Tomorrow and the day after that and the year after that. There was a possibility that with Megs he might have a life to look forward to. And because of that, tonight he was going to hunt down a man and assassinate him in cold blood. This act would damn his very soul but for Megs it was worth it. For Meggie he would walk the fires of hell.

That thought—that she was carrying his babe—steadied him enough to start off again. It was a strange but not unwelcome feeling to know that she carried his child. That someday she would hold a babe against her pretty white breast and that the child would be part of him as well. For the first time in a very long while, he yearned to see tomorrow.

His face had gone still and for a moment her heart sank and she had to fortify herself for a battle. But then his mouth quirked like that (...) and she knew even before he said anything else that it was all going to be fine--more than fine. It was going to be wonderful .

When you enter a room, all eyes turn to you. You blaze like a torch, lighting the darkest corners, brightening even those who thought they were already well lit. You bring joy and mirth and leave behind a glow that gives hope to those you left. And you, Mr. Makepeace? Are you one of those who thought themselves well lit? I am as dark as a pit. Now he was glad her back was turned. Even your torch will have difficulty lighting my depths.

At first she saw only the mess of roots. There wasn't space in there, surely, for a small dog, let alone a man and boy. But as she watched, a huge hand slapped down on the edge. She started for the hole even as Caliban emerged, head and broad shoulders blackened, clutching Indio to his chest like Hephaestus rising from his underworld forge. She'd never seen such a wonderful sight.

When he died, she took her hopes for a child and wrapped them carefully in a box and buried that box deep, deep in her heart. So deep, she thought never to face that dream again. Except, with one sentence, Edward had exhumed the box and ripped it open. And her hopes, her dreams, her need to bear a child were as fresh now as they had been when she was newly wed.

He had no money or influence here. The clothes on his back were ragged, his moccasins were worn, and he was skeletally thin from lack of food and walking. But he would sail on a ship bound for England even if he had to scrub the decks to pay his way. He was Reynaud St. Aubyn, the Viscount of Hope, and by God or the devil, he was going home.

Remember how we once lay together, love? Remember how we became lovers and hoped for a future? That future is alive and here. And taking his hand, she laid it upon her gently swelling belly, where a new life grew. Thus she made him touch Hope

He studied her upturned face for a minute. "Please forgive me. I don't want you to hope. If there were any way—" "I know." She got to her feet. "I even understand." She walked briskly to the door. "I came down to get something for Rebecca. She must be wondering what happened to me.

She said to him, 'You might melt.' And he said, "If I melt, you can make me again.

Do you no longer believe in your luck?' 'You're not my luck, fallen angel, or even my dearest friend. You're my love. My true love.

It was a paradise of learning, and I prayed for eventual admission.

If there is any good in life, in history, in my own past, I invoke it now. I invoke it with all the passion with which I have lived.

We couldn't be sure of anything except the power of love…and we are under no requirement to believe in a particular source of that love as long as we could keep giving and receiving some in our own lives.

People seem to believe that despair is the same as anguish, but it is not. It's true that despair is surrounded by anguish, but at its core, despair is silent, a blank page.

We went on growing food and eating and sleeping and I cooked for a big crowd here every day, all my family. What else could we do? You just go on, if you have to.

When God says, "Wait," we can control only two things: how we wait, and who we become along the way.

This went on year after year (1 Samuel 1:7). Not day after day, week after week, or even month after month, but year after year. Some of us can barely wait for our coffee to brew in the morning without a nervous breakdown (don't judge me); how in the name of all that is good and holy are we supposed to survive weeks, months, or years of delay for the real blessings?

God sees. God hears. God cares.

There's a funny thing I've noticed about life. When you really dread something, it turns out not to be so bad. It's the unexpected awful things that get you down.

What started out as wishful thinking, angel given signs from above, was now just an imprisoned lot of dirty, broken pieces that used to belong to beautifully glistening wholes.

Elizabeth Lowell

but you can't spend your whole life hoping people will ask you the right questions. you must learn to love and answer the questions they already ask.

For us what was killing was how nothing had changed. We'd been waiting to be transformed, and now here we were, back in our old life.