I gather from a lawyer that there was a rehearsal yesterday. We haven't a hope. I know the presiding judge too: I've had the misfortune to sleep with his wife. He was specially picked.

People are rapidly losing hope and trust. They believe their government has been captured by special interests and no longer cares about them, and they are right.

All the interests of my reason, speculative as well as practical, combine in the three following questions: 1. What can I know? 2. What ought I to do? 3. What may I hope?

What can I know? What ought I to do? What can I hope?

Amateurs hope, professionals work.

I know there are going to be big challenges financially, but I'm excited artistically. I think that if the experience is better artistically, then we have more hope in the future.

For if enough people were really convinced that growth should be halted, and if they acted on that conviction, then billions of others might be deprived of any realistic hope of gaining the opportunities now enjoyed by the more fortunate.

If we ever hope to rid the world of the political AIDS of our time, terrorism, the rule must be clear: One does not deal with terrorists; one does not bargain with terrorists; one kills terrorists.

We daily share emotions, our personal and shared needs and hope.

I just hope that some of the movies I'm in are still welcome years from now.

I, for one, hope that youth will again revolt and again demoralize the dead weight of conformity that now lies upon us.

Mainly as sort of blueprints for dealing with most of the adults in their lives, to some extent with their fellows. It is this notion of aiming high and there's always hope, aim low and you might as well stop now.

Hope is itself a species of happiness, and, perhaps, the chief happiness, which this world affords.

Hope is necessary in every condition. The miseries of poverty, sickness and captivity would, without this comfort, be insupportable.

Whatever enlarges hope will also exalt courage.