Wednesday, March 6, 2013


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.


  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.

  2. Abandon any hope of fruition.
    Buddhist saying

  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.

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

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