Hope When It Hurts Quotes

Sometimes when you least expect it, the tables turn and that scary feeling that has taken hold of you for so long somehow turns into hope ~ David Archuleta

Pray not while you can work. Hope is the least of what life can afford you, never the best. Hope is a plague, never a blessing, especially when the answer is sought not from us but from others. It is unqualified burden to expect something from nothing. ~ Dew Platt

When I'm dead, I hope it may be said: his sins were scarlet, but his books were read. ~ J.P. Donleavy

All I'm trying to tell you is to be strong. Don't ever let nothing get you down. Don't be afraid or ashamed to love, or to grieve when the thing you love is gone. Just don't let it throw you, no matter how much it hurts. ~ Patrick D. Smith

But despite such energetic mental exercise, the ghosts of time present would intrude and drive his dreams away. It was Ann who had robbed him of his peace, Ann who had once made the present so important and taught him the habit of reality, and when she went there was nothing. ~ John Le Carre

Never give up hope, that family can be a great source of love, that the eternal inner spirit lives on even when the human body is frail and through positive thinking it can overcome incredible odds. Yes, all of these. But also, that love for others defines us. ~ Peter Benn

It had that kind of open-ended fear to it - like that feeling you get when you're driving and you see a cop. And you're not speeding. You don't have drugs. But you're just thinking, I hope he doesn't notice I'm driving. ~ Mike Birbiglia

Why do I speak forth the unpopular? I have a sweet tooth but not when it comes back up. ~ Donna Lynn Hope

When you run out of hope, everything is backwards. Your heart wants the opposite of what it needs. ~ Andrew Peterson

I do not know what I am saying, puppy. Change frightens me. My anxiety and depression… these things are easier to control when I feel safe and secure. But I like having you around. I hope you decide to move in with us, even though I am crazy."
Hans laughed and gave him an affectionate smile. "I don't think your therapist would like you talking like that."
"No. Thomas does not like it either."
"I don't think I'm going anywhere," Hans said. "We can talk about it tomorrow."
"Good." Boris smiled, let go of his hand, and stood. "Oh, yes. Thomas tells me he kisses you now. This is good. I have no problem with it, so do not feel you have to make sure I am out of the room or anything stupid like that."
"You can kiss me too, if you want."
"I was hoping you would say that," Boris said, grinning. "I do want. But I have been sleeping all day, and I have really bad breath. May I kiss you tomorrow?"
"You may." Hans had already figured out Boris had bad breath. He might have been willing to overlook it, but considering how tentative things were between them, it was probably better to wait.
"I am looking forward to it. Goodnight, puppy." Boris slipped from the room but stopped halfway out the door.
Hans heard Thomas's voice, though it was too quiet for him to make out what he was saying. Boris said something in response, and this time Hans could tell it was in Russian. ~ Jamie Fessenden

You have two options when you approach a hostile checkpoint in a war zone, and each is a gamble. The first is to stop and identify yourself as a journalist and hope that you are respected as a neutral observer. The second is to blow past the checkpoint and hope the soldiers guarding it don't open fire on you. ~ Lynsey Addario

Number 23 had plenty of redeeming qualities that made falling for him a justifiable accident. But our connection had nothing to do with our similarities, our differences, our aesthetic attractions, or our emotional and physical needs. When we spoke, he was truly with me. Our egos, our personas, expected social cues, the facades that everyone builds around them that are supposed to sculpt the way the world sees us, were stripped with Number 23 and I. He was immediately my best friend, familiar and safe - an epiphany that I had been spending my life alone in crowded rooms.
Our souls were naked. We initially curled into the warmth of that connection. But once we knew how real it was, we felt exposed, vulnerable, and raw. While his defense was his fearful recoil, mine was dictation. ~ Maggie Young

The nation was cracking under the weight of bloated modernity and all the patches pasted onto its excessive and malfunctioning hypercomplexity, and people were bewildered by the strange glitches, failures and shortages. Going forward, nothing would really work anymore as it was designed to, yet the hope and expectation that it would all magically recover dominated the chatter in the rare moments when people could step back from their frantic lives and share a meal or a drink. ~ James Howard Kunstler

Those nights," he whispered, "when you lay beside me and finally drifted off to sleep, your face was so peaceful ... so incredibly beautiful and I had to wonder who gave you that spray of freckles across the bridge of your nose. I watched you sleep, and felt your breath blowing across my skin like the softest touch ... I wish like hell I could kill the bastard that left you so traumatized. But do you know the worst part? I often hope your dream returns just so I can feel you against me again. We have a connection, and I can't ignore it, and I don't want to. ~ Loni Flowers

My sweet little whorish Nora I did as you told me, you dirty little girl, and pulled myself off twice when I read your letter. I am delighted to see that you do like being fucked arseways. Yes, now I can remember that night when I fucked you for so long backwards. It was the dirtiest fucking I ever gave you, darling. My prick was stuck in you for hours, fucking in and out under your upturned rump. I felt your fat sweaty buttocks under my belly and saw your flushed face and mad eyes. At every fuck I gave you your shameless tongue came bursting out through your lips and if a gave you a bigger stronger fuck than usual, fat dirty farts came spluttering out of your backside. You had an arse full of farts that night, darling, and I fucked them out of you, big fat fellows, long windy ones, quick little merry cracks and a lot of tiny little naughty farties ending in a long gush from your hole. It is wonderful to fuck a farting woman when every fuck drives one out of her. I think I would know Nora's fart anywhere. I think I could pick hers out in a roomful of farting women. It is a rather girlish noise not like the wet windy fart which I imagine fat wives have. It is sudden and dry and dirty like what a bold girl would let off in fun in a school dormitory at night. I hope Nora will let off no end of her farts in my face so that I may know their smell also.

You say when I go back you will suck me off and you want me to lick your cunt, you little depraved blackguard. I hope y ~ James Joyce

People often say, "I was walking along [or driving, shopping, jogging] and I had this whole poem go through my mind, but when I sat down to write it, I couldn't get it to come out right." I never can either. Sitting to write is another activity. Let go of walking or jogging and the poem that was born then in your mind. This is another moment. Write another poem. Perhaps secretly hope something of what you thought a while ago might come out, but let it come out however it does. Don't force it. ~ Natalie Goldberg

Really?" I whispered.
He crossed his arms on his chest and stated, "Babe, you think I found the woman of my
dreams at forty-five years old and I'm gonna let anything happen to her, think again. That's a long fuckin' time to wait for what you want. I waited. I
found it. I'm pullin' out all the stops to take care of it. I know you feel the same for me so I'm doin' the same to keep me safe for you. So yeah, really, I
called Delgado. I made peace and asked a favor. His woman is in your posse so she wouldn't be doin' cartwheels, he said no and something went
down with you or, for you, me. And he isn't dumb, he's a man who knows to collect favors and he's a man
whose business means he often has the need to call markers. So his ear's to the ground and his eyes are open so if a cop isn't cruisin' by your
house or bakery, one of Lee's boys or one of Hawk's commandos are. Smart people pay attention to who's cruisin' around people they want to fuck
with and smart people will see cops, Nightingale's men and Delgado's crazy motherfuckers and, my hope is, they'll steer clear. So, there you go.
Now you got a full explanation of what I mean when I say you're on radar."
I heard all he said, I really did.
But I was stuck at the beginning part where he told me I was the woman of his dreams. ~ Kristen Ashley

And all the while I have people telling me, at least you still have something of your husband. Do they mean the book chronicling our work in Vystrana? No, of course not - never mind that we undertook that work together, with intent. That cannot possibly be as valuable as the accidental consequence of biology."

Very quietly, Tom said, "Is not a child worth more than a book?"

"Yes," I said violently. "But then for God's sake let us value my son for himself, and not as some relic of his father. When he is grown enough to read, I will be delighted to share his father's legacy with him; it is my legacy as well, and I hope he has inherited our curiosity enough to appreciate it. I would not mind a motherhood where that was my purpose - to foster my son's mind and teach him the intellectual values of his parents. But no; society tells me my role is to change his napkins and coo over the faces he makes, and in so doing abandon the things I want him to treasure when he is grown. ~ Marie Brennan

Wanted: More Praise I cannot help believing that the world will be a better and a happier place when people are praised more and blamed less; when we utter in their hearing the good we think and also gently intimate the criticisms we hope may be of service. For the world grows smaller every day. It will be but a family circle after a while. ~ Frances E. Willard

At first we did not speak our hurt because it was not manly. Now we do not speak it because we are afraid and ashamed and alone without hope, each of us alone. It is hard to know when the first became the second. ~ Naomi Alderman

Because a new love affair always gives hope, the irrational mortal loneliness is always crowned, that thing I saw (that horror of a snake emptiness) when I took the deep iodine deathbreath on the Big Sur beach is now justified and hosannah'd and raised up like a sacred urn to Heaven in the mere fact of the taking off of clothes and clashing wits and bodies in the inexpressibly nervously sad delight of love- don't let no old fogies tell you otherwise, and on top of that nobody in the world even ever dares to write the true story of lovem it's awful, we're stuck with a 50% incomplete literature and drama- lying mouth to mouth, kiss to kiss in the pillow dark, loin to loin in unbelievable surrendering sweetness so distant from all our mental fearful abstractions it makes you wonder why men have termed God antisexual somehow- the secret underground truth of mad desire hiding under fenders under buried junkyards throughout the world, never mentioned in newspapers, written about haltingly and like corn by authors and painted tongue in cheek by artists, agh, just listen to Tristan und Isolde by Wagner and think of him in a Bavarian field with his beloved naked beauty under fall leaves. ~ Jack Kerouac

I remember Mrs. Brool, whose photograph is still in the tuckshop; she served there until an uncle in Australia left her a lot of money. In fact, I remember so much that I often think I ought to write a book. Now what should I call it? 'Memories of Rod and Lines'--eh? [Cheers and laughter. That was a good one, people thought--one of Chips's best.] Well, well, perhaps I shall write it, some day. But I'd rather tell you about it, really. I remember . . . I remember . . . but chiefly I remember all your faces. I never forget them. I have thousands of faces in my mind--the faces of boys. If you come and see me again in years to come--as I hope you all will--I shall try to remember those older faces of yours, but it's just possible I shan't be able to--and then some day you'll see me somewhere and I shan't recognize you and you'll say to yourself, 'The old boy doesn't remember me.' [Laughter] But I do remember you--as you are now. That's the point. In my mind you never grow up at all. Never. Sometimes, for instance, when people talk to me about our respected Chairman of the Governors, I think to myself, 'Ah, yes, a jolly little chap with hair that sticks up on top--and absolutely no idea whatever about the difference between a Gerund and a Gerundive.' [Loud laughter] ~ James Hilton

It was then that she realized she still had God. He was the only one who hadn't left her. He knew who she was, even if she didn't. A single tear formed in the corner of her eye as she thanked God for not abandoning her - especially when she needed Him most. ~ J.E.B. Spredemann

You reached into my chest with your words. When you spoke, my heart danced. Love muddled thoughts based in reason. Interest withered like a flower in dry heat then your words wrapped themselves around my heart and yanked it from my body. Now I stand bewildered by the sight of my heart beating on the cold concrete floor. ~ Sonya Watson

Sera loaded the new ammunition and held up the gun. "I bet I can hit closer to the bulls-eye than you can."
Her victory came to him on a flash, right down to the cute little dance he was sure was last popular in the nineties. "Sucker bet, sunshine. Never wager with a precog."
"So cheat." She grinned. "You haven't even hear the terms yet. If you win, I'll let you buy me a pretty dress and take me out for a fancy dinner."
"And if I lose?"
"I get a cheap bar, beer, and hot wings, and dirty sex in the bathroom."
Julio cleared his throat, took the gun from her and winked. "Like I said, sucker bet."
"Uh-huh." As she stepped behind him, she trailed her fingers up his arm. "I'm bad news, mister. I hope you can handle me."
"I'll try." He lined up a shot, squeezed the trigger and snorted when the bullet went wide. "I told you I suck at this."
She laughed and retrieved the gun to line up her shot with adorable concentration that furrowed her brows. Her shot wasn't perfect, but it winged the target, and her victory dance was just as cute as it had been in his vision. ~ Moira Rogers

I thought, man, if you could run 100 miles, you'd be in this Zen state. You'd be the f**king Buddha. Bringing peace and a smile to the world. In my case, it didn't work. I'm the same old punk ass as ever. But there's always this hope that it'll turn you into the person you want to be. You know, like a better, more peaceful person. And when I'm out on a long run, the only thing in life that matters is finishing the run. For once, my brain isn't going 'bleh bleh bleh bleh.' Everything just quiets down, and the only thing going on is pure flow ~ Jenn Shelton

Why hadn't he realized this before? Everyone knew that if you divided reality
by expectation, you got a happiness quotient. But when you inverted the equation-expectation
divided by reality-you didn't get the opposite of happiness. What you got, Lewis realized, was hope.
Pure logic: Assuming reality was constant, expectation had to be greater than reality to create
optimism. On the other hand, a pessimist was someone with expectations lower than reality, a
fraction of diminishing returns. The human condition meant that this number approached zero
without reaching it-you never really completely gave up hope; it might come flooding back at any
provocation. ~ Jodi Picoult

Criticism always hurts most when we deserve it. ~ Glenn L. Pace

I'm not a masochist. I don't want to be hurt. Or injured. Just... pushed. I want that sort of... effacement, I guess... where my rationality is dissolved by sensation, emotion, adrenaline, all that. Like when you bike or run, and you think you've hit the wall and have to stop because your lungs don't seem to be able to suck in enough air, your heart is pounding so hard it hurts, and your legs feel soft, like you're just going to fall down. But you keep going, and after a while, it's almost like floating. Like you're apart from your body, but at the same time you feel, hear, see everything with this unfamiliar intensity. Or when you eat too much chili pepper or wasabe, and you feel your body respond, it's not a thought process. Your veins throb, you sweat, there's a weird euphoria. And there's pain, too. You can't stop it. You just have to wait for it to pass, and while you do, you, your reality is subsumed in the... transcendence of the pain.

Krylov, Varian (2008-05-19). Abduction (Kindle Locations 9214-9221). eXcessica. Kindle Edition. ~ Krylov Varian 20080519 . Abduction

I think when you think of death as being part of the life cycle and recognize that death is an inevitability for our species because the world has to be renewed with each death, then the hope becomes when it is renewed it will be renewed by people on whom I have had some influence for good. ~ Sherwin B. Nuland

For I am inclined to believe that my beloved Arthur of the future is sitting at this very moment among his learned freinds, in the Combination Room of the College of Life, and that they are thinking away in there for all they are worth, about the best means to help our curious species: and I for one hope that some day, when not only England but the World has need of them, and when it is ready to listen to reason, if it ever is, they will issue forth from their rath in joy and power: and then perhaps, they will give us happiness in the world once more and chivalry, and the old medieval blessing of certain simple people - who tried, at any rate, in their own small way, to still the ancient brutal dream of Attila the Hun. ~ T.H. White

The miracle is in the breaking. It is in the breaking that God multiplies not enough into more than enough. Are there broken places in your life so painful that you fear the breaking will destroy you? Do you come from a broken home? Did you have a broken marriage? Did you have a broken past? Have you experienced brokenness in your body? Have your finances been broken? You may think your brokenness has disqualified you from being able to run in the divine relay, but as with my own life and Kalli's, when we give God our brokenness, it qualifies us to be used by God to carry a baton of hope, restoration, and grace to others on the sidelines who are broken. What should have disqualified Kalli from the race was the very thing that qualified her for it. Put your broken pieces into God's hands and watch him use them to work his wonders. ~ Christine Caine

Why weep when it takes less energy to laugh? Why frown when it takes less energy to smile? Why despair when it takes less energy to hope? Why fear when it takes less energy to love? ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

Love is like the senses of the body.
Imagine you are blind, you can see an object using touch. You can feel around it and see it mentally.
Now imagine you can't feel, but can see. You can't feel what you see.
You may see love, but not feel love. When you feel love, you also so see it. ~ Blake McCormick

When Hughes writes, in the first two lines of his poem, "Let America be America again/ Let it be the dream it used to be," he acknowledges that America is primarily a dream, a hope, an aspiration, that may never be fully attainable, but that spurs us to be better, to be larger. He follows this with the repeated counterpoint, "America never was America to me," and through the rest of this remarkable poem he alternates between the oppressed and the wronged of America, and the great dreams that they have for their country, that can never be extinguished. ~ Harry Belafonte

Good morning, Mike," I mumbled, making a beeline for the coffeepot.
"Oooooh!" he teased again. "Someone is getting married tonight! Woooooooo…"
"Yep," I said, taking that first glorious sip of java. "Hard to believe, isn't it?"
Mike put his hand over his mouth and snickered. Then he asked, "So…are you guys gonna do some…some kissin'?"
"I certainly hope so," I said. This only served to make Mike laugh harder.
"Ooooooh!" he squealed. "Are you gonna have a baby?"
Oh, Lord.
I took another hit of Gevalia and answered, "Not today." Mike cracked up again. He was clearly on a roll.
"What's so funny this morning, Mike?" I asked.
"Your s-s-s-stomach is gonna get so fat," he answered. Mike was quickly approaching manic stage--the result of a large, busy weekend and his routine being disrupted. Soon the inevitable crash would come. I just hoped I was on the plane to Australia when it happened. It wasn't going to be pretty.
"Oh, whatever, Mike," I answered, feigning indignation. ~ Ree Drummond

... I believe there needs to be a striving to find the pure, unadulterated root of the great truths taught by the wisdom bringers, and an understanding of the principles of the Religion of the Sun, which gave rise to times of great peace, high art and literature, and a profound understanding of reality, perennial wisdom, advances in civilization and most importantly of all, the spiritual transformation of the individual. It is when these principles are lost that civilization falls into decay, and it can't hope to regain any of its former glory, without understanding and adhering to them. ~ Lara Atwood

Every generation confronts the task of choosing its past. Inheritances are chosen as much as they are passed on. The past depends less on 'what happened then' than on the desires and discontents of the present. Strivings and failures shape the stories we tell. What we recall has as much to do with the terrible things we hope to avoid as with the good life for which we yearn. But when does one decide to stop looking to the past and instead conceive of a new order? When is it time to dream of another country or to embrace other strangers as allies or to make an opening, an overture, where there is none? When is it clear that the old life is over, a new one has begun, and there is no looking back? From the holding cell was it possible to see beyond the end of the world and to imagine living and breathing again? ~ Saidiya V. Hartman

When they turn the sun
on again I'll plant children
under it, I'll light up my soul
with a match and let it sing ... ~ Anne Sexton

The law we broke! - the sin here so awfully revealed! - let these alone be in thy thoughts! I fear! I fear! It may be, that, when we forgot our God, - when we violated our reverence each for the other's soul, - it was thenceforth vain to hope that we could meet hereafter, in an everlasting and pure reunion. ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne

No one else. It was me who had to carry myself over the finish line, and all I needed to remember when I felt like not trying was that that feeling wouldn't last forever.
Forever.
I used to believe it didn't exist. One word has terrified me as a child and it haunted me. But now I knew, and many small ways, but it was real, But it didn't scare me anymore. Forever wasn't a little girl cowering in the closet. Forever wasn't the shadows sitting in the back of the class. Forever wasn't doing what I thought Carl and Rose wanted instead of what I needed to do with my life. Forever wasn't believing I was some kind of replacement daughter and that I was letting them down. Forever wasn't being the one who needed protection. Forever wasn't pain and grief forever wasn't a problem. Forever was my heartbeat and it was the hope tomorrow held. Forever was the glistening silver lining of the dark cloud, no matter how heavy and thick it was. Forever was knowing it moments of weakness didn't equate to an eternity of them. Forever was knowing that I was strong. Forever was Carl and Rosa, Ainsley and Kira, Hector and Rider. Jaden would always be a part of my forever. Forever was in the fire-breathing dragon inside me that had shed the fear like a snake shedding skin. Forever was simply a promise of more. Forever was a work in progress. And I couldn't wait for forever. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

...but in 1917 we had no cares except the mundane ones of starvation and occupation and civil war, and for those of us in our armored trains traveling up and down the front waging brilliant campaigns, or for our young Natashas and Alyoshas experiencing the education and class steeling of the Komsomol for the first time, learning to ask in every historical situation: How many workers are there? how many peasants, intellectuals? how do they stand on this issue? it was a very exciting and romantic period; what I am getting at is that probably no one felt alone as Bug had felt alone; for everyone worked together and loved each other- oh, I hope that that was true. For if life is worth living at all you can have your cake and eat it, too (съесть ее тунцом as the Russians say, и ее мудак- literally to eat out her tuna and her asshole); when you fight together you feel together; love and politics go hand in hand, and I can demonstrate this feasibly with another linguistic point. A girl's cherry is her tsélka. Raskobót cya kak tsélochka, to pop like a little cherry, means in fact to crack under interrogation. I want to draw your attention, comrades, to that highly significant trope. ~ William T. Vollmann