Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Hope:

It was hope undid them. Hope, and the certainty that Providence had made them suffer enough for their dreams. They'd lost so much already along the trail--children, healers, leaders, all taken--surely, they reasoned, God would preserve them from further loss, and reward their griefs and hardships with deliverance into a place of plenty.
    -Clive Barker, Everville
Hope is dangerous. It'll cause you to take on way more than you can handle. Too much land, too big of a move, too big of a leap, too much of whatever. The only hope is to have no hope.

6 comments:

  1. Interesting. I am glad I have your site to read, I just caught up on about a weeks worth of your postings and found them oddly comforting.

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  2. Abandon any hope of fruition.
    Buddhist saying

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

    And sweetest in the gale is heard;
    And sore must be the storm
    That could abash the little bird
    That kept so many warm.

    I've heard it in the chillest land,
    And on the strangest sea;
    Yet, never, in extremity,
    It asked a crumb of me.

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  4. That's a pretty poem. I always liked it.

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  5. Oh my goodness I didn't give credit to
    Ms Emily Dickinson.


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