“Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird,
That cannot fly.”
― Langston Hughes
Hope. Man’s greatest weakness and greatest strength. The fuel that ignites men’s dreams. Without hope, all that we could be would come crumbling down.
For so many of us, it is hope that wakes us up in the morning. It is this strange idea that things will get better. That life’s unpredictability will, somehow, work for us.
Trust me, hope isn’t born on the top of the world. It isn’t a gift given from above. Hope is built while climbing the mountain, while being down on your knees, the weight of the world pushing you down. Hope is being able to see the view from the top of the mountain as you struggle to put one feet in front of the other.
There is no hope without darkness. And without hope, all the light in the world couldn’t be able to defeat the dark.
Hope is the phoenix that rises from the ashes of shattered dreams.
Hope is going to bed crying. Struggling to fall asleep. Hope is what you feel inside your chest, that hollow sound of your heart breaking into tiny bits and pieces. Hope is falling asleep broken, only to be awaken whole in the morning.
When the universe shouts, “Give up!” hope whispers back, “Try one more time.”
One more time. Just this once.
And on and on like this until darkness becomes light.