Death is the great hope of all life the desire to expend itself to be used and consumed by its own longing for itself.

Freedom is not a gift nor does it simply exist for us to have, but rather it is a sacred duty, and its blessed yield of hope is born from none other than the blood of the innocent.

In the company of the accomplished, people hope it will rub off on themselves, in the company of the misfortunate, they fear it!

The greatest joys are found not only in what we do and feel, but also in what we hope for.

The realities of the world seldom measure up to the sublime designs of human imagination.