Best 1196 quotes in «optimism quotes» category

Here's another poem, like all others before and after, dedicated to you. There isn't anything left to be said but I will spend my life trying to put you into words. You who is every goodness, every optimism and hope. Your love is a better fate for me than anything I could wish for. If you are a part of me, then you’re the best part. And if you're separate from me, then you are my destination. But I’ve become a weary traveller, so please, let us never be apart.

Her son would be incomparably handsome, good and powerful. He would be the expected Messiah; it is fortunate for humanity that all mothers have this pathetic faith, without it mankind would not have the ever-renascent strength to go on living.

Her words were slickly lacquered, dripping with venom that singed the air as they fell. She traced her tongue up my neck and whispered in a way that would shatter glass. "It's the words inbetween," she said, "those are the ones I truly mean." Then, her toes curled with the release of the truth she kept hidden.

He sang softly, less with words and more with thought. She cradled his head, stitching together his fragmented heart.

He showed me the lowest. I had to surmise the highest.

He spoke in polished honesty free of liar's filth. He said the hardest words with an unshakable voice, a wide smile, with fear and doubt freezing over his core. The truth was the best route, but the truth could always be costly... another truth. A sad truth.

He was a musician of the best nature, with guitar string fingertips and soft flute lips that could tighten in a trumpet's purse. Every movement was perfect, every breath filled with purpose. Whether close or open, his eyes seeped ambition and his body burned with chaotic passion. I was his instrument and he played me so well. His fingers fashioned a tune of ecstasy while his lips felt the reed shudders of my skin. He stole my breath and made it his own, using my lips to create his climactic song. A symphony of electricity and orgasmic bliss, he played me so well his fingers never did miss. Half-circles and hooks with my parted lips as his speaker, I never knew another musician so ruthlessly eager. To finish his song, to hit every note, elongating the melody of every sound from the depths of my throat. He was ambitious, pushing my limits, tearing my reservations and destroying my thresholds, all I could do was phase in and out, my ears ringing from the ballad I was made to produce.

He was incapable of anticipating to-morrow's griefs.

Hope is the Word which God has written on the brow of every man.

His eyes are covered by impermeable marble, a solidity that can never be breached. You think there is gold and warmth behind the facade of cold, but if only you could see your reflection in the marble. You would see how you burn, how brightly you glow, enough to incinerate anyone else whole.

History's kaleidoscope worked its permutations, its pace ever faster, approaching some unknown crescendo.

Hold out your hands to feel the luxury of sunbeams. Press the soft blossoms against your cheek, and finger their graces of form, their delicate mutability of shape, their pliancy and freshness. Expose your face to the aerial floods that sweep the heavens, ‘inhale great draughts of space,’ wonder, wonder at the wind’s unwearied activity. Pile note on note the infinite music that flows increasingly to your soul from the tactual sonorities of a thousand branches and tumbling waters. How can the world be shriveled when this most profound, emotional sense, touch, is faithful to its service? I am sure that if a fairy bade me choose between the sense of sight and that of touch, I would not part with the warm, endearing contact of human hands…

Hope docks in my heart

Hope: Hold on, persistence effort!

Hope is something that is built from small parts. Perceived actions. Observed effects. Imperfect understanding. Uncertain knowledge. Acknowledged fears. The things each of us projects and says and does in the physical world. Hope then is made up of tiny bits and pieces of us. All of us, together.

Hope is the assurance of positive expectations.

Horrle was nodding gravely, humoring him, probably thinking that out of all these two hundred fun-loving people it was just his luck to have run into a doom merchant. McIntyre had committed the sin of pessimism, of course, forgetting, as a Brit, that out here optimism was more than a state of mind; optimism was a philosophy.

Hoping fast that my arrow's flight is steady and true, I need this, I need my arrow to find you, To pierce your skin and enter your undecided heart, Please, oh please, this can be our brand new start, Maybe it's not meant to be, Maybe my arrow will miss and strike a tree, But my love for you is strong, it guides my arrow, I cannot miss, the window to your heart is very narrow, It slams shut igniting embers and sparking fury spatter, To my heart and your window, we are known as 'shatter.

How beautiful or handsome you are it doesn't depend on your skin color, body height, weight, age, race, origin & faith. It depends on the level of your confidence, optimism, nimbleness, look and smile. How important you are to people it doesn't depend on your appearance, money, power, family and education. It depends on the level of your honesty, expertise, kindness and love.

How can you be so nice to me and how can you forgive me when I’ve been such a jerk?” Maddy appears to think for a moment. “When you are reading a book and you finish a chapter, you don’t keep re-reading the chapter you just finished. You move on to the next chapter to see what happens.

However, robust evidence shows that people systematically overestimate the probability of positive future contingencies, and underestimate the probability of negative ones — only those who are depressed or dysphoric come to accurate assessments.

How long you will live in your dreams? The time is now, it's better to go and follow them..

I admit to being prone to deep thinking, which – given that I’m emerging from dark times – can take me to some very sombre or profound places. But this is no bad thing. I always resurface wiser and with a way of viewing things that is different to before.

I admire successful men and women who endured and overcome unusual circumstances to fulfill their dreams.

I always think fondly of my years inside Detention Center LC/766B. The women and the children I met had all lost people they loved, but they never wallowed in despair. Dying is one of the few experiences we'll eventually all enjoy firsthand, and like most shit that's commonplace, it's boring to dwell on. My fellow inmates/classmates (and really, what's the difference?) showed me it was more interesting to concentrate on the living. Because death is fucking predictable... ...but life has science experiments and free time and surprise naps and who knows what comes next?

I always deemed myself a one chance person, if you hurt me or betray me, then I'm done with you. As I grew older and the scars of wisdom imprinted on my soul and chest, I realized a second chance took a monumental amount of strength and some people deserve a chance to right their wrongs. Now, I would gladly allow another the opportunity to cauterize their wounds at the risk of ripping open my tight-knit scars. I would bleed for you and feel alive rather than watch with cold eyes as you decay.

I always thought time was the most valuable currency, but I realized the people we spent our time on and loved us back, that love held even more meaning to me.

I am an optimist and when I am too sure of something or someone, well, of course it turns out that I am wrong .. at other situations, I imagine the worst and needless to say, I am again wrong

I am a yea-sayer.

I am enjoying my life because things aren't going the way I planned.

I am no ecological Pollyana. I have borne, and will continue to bear, feelings of wholehearted melancholy over the ecological state of the earth. How could I not? How could anyone not? But I am unwilling to become a hand-wringing nihilist, as some environmental 'realists' seem to believe is the more mature posture. Instead, I choose to dwell, as Emily Dickinson famously suggested, in possibility, where we cannot predict what will happen but we make space for it, whatever it is, and realize that our participation has value. This is grown-up optimism, where our bondedness with the rest of creation, a sense of profound interaction, and a belief in our shared ingenuity give meaning to our lives and actions on behalf of the more-than-human world.

I am often guilty of expecting the worst so as to avoid disappointment and welcome surprise.

I always see the crack in the glass before I see the window.

I am not optimistic or pessimistic. I feel that optimism and pessimism are very unbalanced. I am a very hard engineer. I am a mechanic. I am a sailor. I am an air pilot. I don't tell people I can get you across the ocean with my ship unless I know what I'm talking about.

I am the master of my mind. I dwell on positive thoughts.

I awoke on the fifth morning with a brightness of anticipation that seemed to challenge fate.

I began to feel lighthearted. Don't ever do that; it tempts some dark and evil force abroad in the universe.

I believe that at the very root of our humanity is a passion to create value with heart, to work alongside others who care, and to make a difference.

I aspire to grow my imagination and to strengthen my optimism.

I could not find any evidence that her circumstances had harmed Jane Austen's work in the slightest. That, perhaps, was the chief miracle about it. Here was a woman about the year 1800 writing without hate, without bitterness, without fear, without protest, without preaching. Her mind consumed all impediments.

I can see that spark coming back when he talks about the future.

I can't be a pessimist because I am alive. To be a pessimist means that you have agreed that human life is an academic matter. So, I am forced to be an optimist. I am forced to believe that we can survive, whatever we must survive.

Ideas become reality. once you hit that reality, you get a new idea. it's a virtuous upward spiral. However, the majority are satisfied living within the idea of the reality instead of the reality of the idea.

I’d given him bits and pieces of my peculiar life, but colored softer and funnier than they had been. I’d painted my dad as Don Quixote in a semi, on a quest for philosophical truths and the best cup of coffee in the nation.

I can help you.” He finalised. “How?” Both Jezka and Faze asked. “I don’t know but it's nice to sound optimistic, wouldn’t you agree.

I can assure you that the life outside the front door is full of optimism and energy

I cannot here withhold the statement that optimism, where it is not merely the thoughtless talk of those who harbor nothing but words under their shallow foreheads, seems to me to be not merely an absurd, but also a really wicked, way of thinking, a bitter mockery of the most unspeakable sufferings of mankind.

I can't be a pessimist because I'm alive. To be a pessimist means that you have agreed that human life is an academic matter.

I can't look at everything I've already done wrong, only the things I can choose to do right from here on out.

I consider everything that happened to be precious moments of my life. The pain. The suffering. The fun… And I am here right now, because everyone was there for me. I couldn’t have accomplished anything by standing still, without anybody’s help. I treasure every moment I have spent here. Unlucky? I feel pretty lucky. This is my resolve.” -Sawada Tsunayoshi-