All things here pass; yet say not they are but hopes.

It is because they are not the thing hoped for that they are precious--the very opals of the soul.

By our hopes are we saved.

There is many a thing we could do better without than the hope of it, for our hopes ever point beyond the thing hoped for.
The bow is the damask flower on the woven tear-drops of the world; hope is the shimmer on the dingy warp of trouble shot with the golden woof of God's intent.

Nothing almost sees miracles but misery.
Cosmo never forgot that walk in the fields with his father.