It is the around-the-corner brand of hope that prompts people to action, while the distant hope acts as an opiate.

If one truly has lost hope, one would not be on hand to say so.

While I breathe, I hope.

There is no medicine like hope, no incentive so great, and no tonic so powerful as expectation of something better tomorrow.

If it were not for hopes, the heart would break.

Of all delusions perhaps none is so great as the thought that our past has ruined our present, that the evils we have done, the mistakes we have committed, have made all further Hope impossible.

Hope proves man deathless. It is the struggle of the soul, breaking loose from what is perishable, and attesting her eternity.

Hope is the dream of a waking man.

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

While there's life, there's hope.