Hope is like peace. It is not a gift from God. It is a gift only we can give one another.

All human wisdom is summed up in two words wait and hope.

Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never is, but always To be Blest.

Hope is like the sun, which, as we journey toward it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us.

Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings.

Hope, deceiving as it is, serves at least to lead us to the end of our lives by an agreeable route.

The present is the ever moving shadow that divides yesterday from tomorrow. In that lies hope.

To communicate the truths of history is an act of hope for the future.

No matter how dark the moment, love and hope are always possible.

Nothing you write, if you hope to be good, will ever come out as you first hoped.