He who has health, has hope. And he who has hope, has everything.

Man partly is and wholly hopes to be.

Such is hope, heaven's own gift to struggling mortals, pervading, like some subtle essence from the skies, all things both good and bad.

Hope is the last thing that dies in man; and though it be exceedingly deceitful, yet it is of this good use to us, that while we are traveling through life it conducts us in an easier and more pleasant way to our journey's end.

Hope is the best possession. None are completely wretched but those who are without hope. Few are reduced so low as that.

In all things it is better to hope than to despair.

From the withered tree, a flower blooms.

If we hope for what we are not likely to possess, we act and think in vain, and make life a greater dream and shadow than it really is.

He that lives upon hope will die fasting.

Hope is the dream of a waking man.