Quotes Tagged "hope"

In an attempt to fix a crooked world, she broke herself, her heart, and her sanity.

The morning weighs on my shoulders with the dreadful weight of hope and I take the blue envelope which Jacques has sent me and tear it slowly into many pieces, watching them dance in the wind, watching the wind carry them away. Yet, as I turn and begin walking toward the waiting people, the wind blows some of them back on me.

Let me stand for love. In conflict, let me be peace. In tragedy, let me be hope. In darknes, let me be light. In grief, let me be comfort.

Who knew such belongings? That the truest love Could blend The margins of life Into forgotten wants.

Your mind drinks up whatever YOU pour into it. Pour hope. Pour truth. Pour love. Pour happiness.

As night falls, let the day's troubles slip away into the darkness and rest well knowing tomorrow brings a new day, a new chance to do things better, a new opportunity to make things right. And when the new day dawns, awaken a little wiser, a little older, a little more prepared for the future. That's simply the pattern of life, my friends, a tapestry of light threaded with darkness, laughter threaded with tears, hope threaded with despair, wisdom threaded with failure, insight threaded with regret. It's just how we learn and grow as humans, and that's okay. It's enough to end each day knowing we've done our best and we'll do our best again tomorrow.

Continuing bonds are not an alternative to grief-work, but more a result of it.

Thousands on the roads, the abandoned railtracks, tonight, bums on the outside, libraries inside. It wasn't planned, at first. Each man had a book he wanted to remember, and did. Then, over a period of twenty years or so, we met each other, traveling, and got the loose network together and set out a plan. [...] We' re nothing more than dust jackets for books, of no significance otherwise. Some of us live in small towns. Chapter One of Thoreau's Walden in Green River, Chapter Two in Willow Farm, Maine. Why, there's one town in Maryland, only twenty-seven people, no bomb'll ever touch that town, is the complete essays of a man named Bertrand Russell. Pick up that town, almost, and flip the pages, so many pages to a person. And when the war's over, some day, some year, the books can be written again, the people will be called in, one by one, to recite what they know and we'll set it up in type until another Dark Age, when we might have to do the whole damn thing over again. But that's the wonderful thing about man; he never gets so discouraged or disgusted that he gives up doing it all over again, because he knows very well it is important and worth the doing.

Wherever you go in life, go with love in your heart, hope in your soul, and joy in your mind. For love, hope and joy will take you far.

Le speranze le hanno le persone, ma i destini li distribuisce il diavolo.

dream big, love large, and live humbly

Light is somewhere at the End, to guide you not to blind you!

Our gestures will not erase Karma. Our Shield will protect you against the assaults of the dark forces. But the settlement of old accounts in unavoidable. The Hand of Fate leads towards the Good.

O anlarda ayaklarımızın altından yer kayar ve ellerimiz boş bir çabayla göğe doğru kalkarken, sahip olduğumuz halde pek farkına varmadığımız şeylere yapışırız içgüdüyle. Hiç haberimiz olmadan içimizde yaşayan atalarımızın tüm tecrübelerinin, biriktirdikleri tüm alışkanlıkların gözlerimizin önüne serildiğini görürüz. Belki de orada, bir çıkış, bir çıkış başlangıcı, karanlıkların içinde, çok uzaklarda gerçekliğine inanılmayacak kadar zayıf ve belirsiz ışıklı bir nokta vardı. Ama böylesi anlarda selamete ulaşmak için, insan bir iğne deliğinden bile geçebilir.

Carry the light, and do not look back.

Whence dreams are begotten, Where sacrifices are extolled, Where the Invisible Light glorifies labor, Thence come My Blessings. In the whispering of leaves, In the splash of waves, In the murmur of the breeze, I am with you. Amidst the cruel and the dark ones, Amidst treason of the spirit, Amidst strife and sorrow, My Shield is over you.

Despite how dark it might be, what is tonight but the precursor to tomorrow?

- [...] On ne doit pas douter de la beauté des choses, même sous un ciel tortionnaire. Si tu n'es pas étonné par le chant du coq ou par la lumière au-dessus des crêtes, si tu ne crois pas en la bonté de ton âme, alors tu ne te bats plus, et c'est comme si tu étais déjà mort. - Demain, le soleil se lèvera et on essaiera encore, a dit Prothé pour conclure.

Once there was magic, wandering free in roads of sky and paths of sea and in that timeless long gone hour words of nonsense still had power doors still flew and birds still talked witches grinned and giants walked we had magic wands and magic wings and we lost our hearts to impossible things Unbelievable thoughts, unsensible ends for wizards and warriors might be friends. In a world where impossible things are true, I don't know why we forgot the spell when we lost the way how the forest fell but now we are old, we can vanish too. And I see once more the invisible track that will lead us home and take us back so find your wands and spread your wings I'll sing your love of impossible things and when you take my vanished hand, we'll both go back to that magic land where we lost our hearts several lifetimes ago when we were wizards, once.

Maybe every now and then I need something ‘unbelievable’ to happen to help make that which is ‘believable’ a place where I start, but not a place where I stop.