The power of hope! Even a lack of ambition can, for a time, pay off as a necessary facet, as long as hope outweighs it.

He that despairs degrades the Deity, and seems to intimate that he is insufficient, or not just to his word; in vain hath he read the Scriptures, the world, and man.

One despairs of others so as not to despair too much of oneself.

If, every day, I dare to remember that I am here on loan, that this house, this hillside, these minutes are all leased to me, not given, I will never despair. Despair is for those who expect to live for ever. I no longer do.

Despair is the price one pays for setting oneself an impossible aim ... It is the sin the corrupt or evil man never practises. He always has hope ... Only the man of goodwill carries always in his heart this capacity for damnation.

Lord save us all from old age and broken health and a hope tree that has lost the faculty of putting out blossoms.

It is impossible for that man to despair who remembers that his Helper is omnipotent.

Human life begins on the other side of despair.

So long as one does not despair, so long as one doesn't look upon life bitterly, things work out fairly well in the end.

Despair lames most people, but it wakes others fully up.

I've already lost all hope I don't wait for joyful hours In fact, night and day grieving I howl my agonies, And as I suffer, I consume myself vilely And ask for death.

Safe Despair it is that raves-Agony is frugal. Puts itself severe away For its own perusal.

If clearness about things produces a fundamental despair, a fundamental despair in turn produces a remarkable clearness or even playfulness about ordinary matters.

In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day

In despair there are the most intense enjoyments, especially when one is very acutely conscious of the hopelessness of one's position.

Safe Despair it is that raves- Agony is frugal. Puts itself severe away For its own perusal.

Try the Lamentations of Jeremiah. They always pick me up.

There's something so showy about desperation, it takes hard wits to see it's a grandiose form of funk.

You may not know it, but at the far end of despair, there is a white clearing where one is almost happy.

... And here am I, budding among the ruins With only sorrow to bite on, As if weeping were a seed and I The earth's only furrow.