Perseverance is the most overrated of traits, if it is unaccompanied by talent; beating your head against a wall is read more

Perseverance is the most overrated of traits, if it is unaccompanied by talent; beating your head against a wall is more likely to produce a concussion in the head than a hole in the wall.

Love lives on hope, and dies when hope is dead; It is a flame which sinks for lack of fuel.

Love lives on hope, and dies when hope is dead; It is a flame which sinks for lack of fuel.

Whoever, in middle age, attempts to realize the wishes and hopes of his early youth, invariably deceives himself. Each ten read more

Whoever, in middle age, attempts to realize the wishes and hopes of his early youth, invariably deceives himself. Each ten years of a man's life has its own fortunes, its own hopes, its own desires.

Persistence is to the character of man as carbon is to steel.

Persistence is to the character of man as carbon is to steel.

Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right read more

Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don't give up.

Until death all is life.
(Where there's life there's hope.)
[Sp., Hasta la muerte todo es vida.]

Until death all is life.
(Where there's life there's hope.)
[Sp., Hasta la muerte todo es vida.]

The grand essentials to happiness in this life are something to do, something to love, and something to hope for.

The grand essentials to happiness in this life are something to do, something to love, and something to hope for.

"Hope" is the thing with feathers- That perches in the soul- And sings the tunes without the words- And never read more

"Hope" is the thing with feathers- That perches in the soul- And sings the tunes without the words- And never stops- at all- .

Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without words, and never stops read more

Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without words, and never stops at all.