Quotes About Hope

Ah, what shall I be at fifty, should nature keep me alive, if I find the world so bitter when I am but twenty-five?

He was a man in whom the dreams of God that haunt the soul in youth, though overlaid by the scum that gathers in the fight for money, had not, as with the majority, utterly died the death. - Secret Worship

It is a common trick of Nature – and a profoundly significant one – that, just when despair is deepest, she waves a wand before the weary eyes and does her best to waken an impossible hope.

We are not sure of sorrow,And joy was never sure.

I am tired of tears and laughter,And men that laugh and weep;Of what may come hereafterFor men that sow and reap:I am weary of days and hours,Blown buds of barren flowers,Desires and dreams and powersAnd everything but sleep.

O splendid and sterile Dolores,Our Lady of Pain.

Hope thou not much, and fear thou not at all.

Poor splendid wings so frayed and soiled and torn!

Ah, had I not taken my life up and given All that life gives and the years let go, The wind and honey, the balm and leaven, The dreams reared high and the hopes brought low? Come life, come death, not a word be said; Should I lose you living, and vex you dead? I never shall tell you on earth; and in heaven, If I cry to you then, will you hear or know?

We are not sure of sorrow, And joy was never sure; To-day will die to-morrow; Time stoops to no man's lure; And love, grown faint and fretful, With lips but half regretful Sighs, and with eyes forgetful Weeps that no loves endure. From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea.

For winter's rains and ruins are over, And all the season of snows, and sins; The days dividing lover and lover, The light that loses, the night that wins; And time remembered is grief forgotten, And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, And in green underwood and cover Blossom by blossom the spring begins.

From too much love of living From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea. Then star nor sun shall waken, Nor any change of light: Nor sound of waters shaken, Nor any sound or sight: Nor wintry leaves nor vernal, Nor days nor things diurnal; Only the sleep eternal In an eternal night.

I am tired of tears and laughter, And men that laugh and weep Of what may come hereafter For men that sow to reap: I am weary of days and hours, Blown buds of barren flowers, Desires and dreams and powers And everything but sleep.

That no life lives forever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea.

He is the wisest and the most knowing man who advises people not to lose hope and faith in the Mercy of God and not to be too sure and over-confident of immunity from His Wrath and Punishment.

One who hopes inordinately, impairs his deeds.

When you get ill do not get nervous about it and try as much as possible to be hopeful.

No one is moved to act, or resolves to speak a single word, who does not hope by means of this action or word to release anxiety from his spirit.

We have to hope that the people who love us and who know us a little bit will in the end have seen us truly. In the end, not much else matters.

I went outside mournful, and I hit pure air. The air was full of birdsong. I went outside expecting rain but it was sunny, it was so suddenly, so openly sunny, with so sharp a spring light coming off the river, that I went down the side of the riverbank and sat in among the daffodils.

That's what love is, this matter of hopeful travel against the usual deeply troubling odds.

I don't know that I believe in gods enough to ask of them. But if they exist and I might be so bold as to say, excuse me, if you're there can you please make that sunlit summer day longer and these dark days shorter

The slightness of it gestures against the odds. It is like a magic spell.

Did I? Daniel said. While we're here. Well. While we're here, let's just always hold out hope for the person who says it. Says what, Mr Gluck? Elisabeth said. Sure you want war? Daniel said.