Quotes About Optimism

It was today—rather yesterday I think—that he told me it was important not to accept life as a brutal approximation.

Moving right along In search of good times And good news, With good friends you can't lose. This could become a habit. Opportunity just knocked, Let's reach out and grab it, Together we'll nab it, We'll hitch-hike, bus, or yellow cab it.

I don't want'a die... I have other plans! -Fraggle Rock

It's—it's always lightest j-just before the dark.

That was the way one had to do. To do the best one could, and accept things as they were. Usually, they did not seem so bad after a while; if they were not actually good, then they became so by virtue of the many things that were worse. Almost everything was relatively good. Eating was better than starving, living better than dying

Cynicism really comes out of despair, but the antidote to cynicism is not optimism but action.

Life is so much more manageable when thought of as a scavenger hunt as opposed to a surprise party.

It was morning, and nothing frightened Amy in the morning, because her will to live never kicked in until after lunch.

It is easy to see the beginning of things, and harder to see the ends. I can remember now, with a clarity that makes the nerves in the back of my neck constrict, when New York began for me, but I cannot lay my finger upon the moment it ended, can never cut through the ambiguities and second starts and broken resolves to the exact plane on the page where the heroine is no longer as optimistic as she once was

The future always looks good in the golden land, because no one remembers the past.

I bought new strings of colored lights. This served as a profession of faith in the future. I take the opportunity for such professions where and when I can invent them, since I do not yet actually feel this faith in the future.

In was raised to believe that what came in on the next roll would always be better than what went out on the last. I no longer believe that, but I am telling you how it was.

When we lose that sense of the possible we lose it fast.

It is easy to see the beginnings of things, and harder to see the ends. I can remember now, with a clarity that makes the nerves in the back of my neck constrict, when New York began for me, but I cannot lay my finger upon the moment it ended, can never cut through the ambiguities and second starts and broken resolves to the exact place on the page where the heroine is no longer as optimistic as she once was.

We were that generation called silent, but we were silent neither, as some thought, because we shared the period's official optimism nor, as others thought, because we feared its official repression. We were silent because the exhilaration of social action seemed to many of us just one more way of escaping the personal, of masking for a while that dread of the meaningless which was man's fate.

I had believed in the logic of popular songs. I had looked for the silver lining. I had walked on through the storm.

I was raised to believe that what came in on the next roll would always be better than what went out on the last. I no longer believe that...

I'm not optimistic, darling, but I'm hopeful. There's a difference. I'm hopeful.

This served as a profession of faith in the future. I take the opportunity for such professions where and when I can invent them, since I do not yet actually feel this faith in the future.

That Episcopal day school Marin attended from the age of four until she entered Berkeley had as its aim the development of a realistic but optimistic attitude, and it was characteristic of Charlotte that whenever the phrase realistic but optimistic appeared in a school communique she read it as realistic and optimistic.

These protests have about them an engaging period optimism, depending as they do upon the Rousseauean premise that most people, left to their own devices, think not in cliches but with originality and brilliance; that most individual voices, once heard, turn out to be voices of beauty and wisdom.

We were that generation called "silent," but we were silent neither, as some thought, because we shared the period's official optimism nor, as others thought, because we feared its official repression. We were silent because the exhilaration of social action seemed to many of us just one more way of escaping the personal, of masking for a while that dread of the meaningless which was man's fate.

Whatever happens we mustn't forget how to laugh

Everyday may not be good but there is good in everyday