You'll hunt me. You'll condemn me. Set the dogs on me.
Just seeing the same sky as you makes familiar scenery look different. I swing between hope and despair at your slightest gesture, and my heart starts to play a melody. What kind of feeling is this again? What do they call this kind of feeling? I think it’s probably… called love. I’m sure this is what they call love.
If anyone ever tells me it’s a mistake to have hope, well then, I’ll just tell them they’re wrong. And I’ll keep telling them till they believe. No matter how many times it takes.
In me omnis spes mihi est.
I gave the book to him because I wanted Henry to have the most important thing anyone can have. Hope. Believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing.
Please don't listen to my sister's opinions of me. They are always... hopeful. Therefore they are always wrong.
No matter how faint our hopes are, even if we don’t have anything we can rely on…I will NEVER give up!