Whisper Of Hope Quotes & Sayings
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Top Whisper Of Hope Quotes

I like seeing Venice through your eyes.'
A tiny bud of hope sprouted in her heart ...
'I'll have this wrapped for you.'
'Thanks.' The tiny bud within her grew a single whisper-thin leaf of vivid green — Nalini Singh

Nature has many tricks wherewith she convinces man of his finity, - the ceaseless flow of the tides, the fury of storm, the shock of the earthquake, the long roll of heavens artillery, - but the most tremendous, the most stupefying of all, is the passive phase of the White Silence. All movement ceases, the sky clears, the heavens are as brass; the slightest whisper seems sacrilege, and man becomes timid, affrighted at the sound of his own voice. Sole speck of life journeying across the ghostly wastes of a dead world, he trembles at his audacity, realizes that his is a maggots life, nothing more. Strange thoughts arise unsummoned, and the mystery of all things strives for utterance. And the fear od death, of God, of the universe, comes over him, - the hope of the Resurrection and the life, the yearning for immortality, the vain striving of the imprisoned essence, - it is then, if ever, man walks alone with God.
- The White Silence — Jack London

Everyday in the heat, rain and cold, I ran, alone in the woods ... in the hills near our home. There I felt the gentle touch of God. And I heard His whisper, You're stronger now. It's time to tell the truth of what happened. Tell your story to give someone hope. — Nikki Rosen

Noah realized with some embarrassment that he wanted to hold her and comfort her, whisper all the right words that would bring her peace of mind. He wanted to be the one to get her through this. To rescue her. To put his arms around her, protect her and bring contentment where there was fear and pain. Hope. He would show her hope where there was hopelessness. — Robyn Carr

Our guns were still strapped onto our backs, because a gun meant life. Without it there was no life in the LRA. After crossing the water and walking for a long time, there was a whisper in my heart, telling me that if we kept the guns we would get killed.
I was learning to listen to this gentle voice that spoke to my heart. This time what was said was hard to accept. I didn't know how I would convince my friends to throw away what seemed to be their last hope. The voice would not leave me alone. It continued to whisper in my ears to drop the guns. — Grace Akallo

You took my heart and you held it in your mouth
And, with a word all my love came rushing out
And, every whisper, it's the worst, emptied out by a single word
There is a hollow in me now ...
And
Every whisper, every sigh
Eats away at this heart of mine
And there is a hollow in me now.
So I put my faith in something unknown
I'm living on such sweet nothing
But I'm trying to hope with nothing to hold
I'm living on such sweet nothing. — Florence Welch

Love is a sliver of sunlight peeking through the darkness; a whisper of hope when all is lost. — Rochelle Maya Callen

Glad you like my first tableau. Come and see number two. Hope it isn't spoilt; it was very pretty just now. This is 'Othello telling his adventures to Desdemona'."
The second window framed a very picturesque group of three. Mr March in an armchair, with Bess on a cushion at his feed, was listening to Dan, who, leaning against a pillow, was talking with unusual animation. The old man was in shadow, but little Desdemona was looking up with the moonlight full upon her face, quite absorbed in the story he was telling so well. The gay drapery over Dan's shoulder, his dark colouring and the gesture of his arm made the picture very striking and both very striking, and both spectators enjoyed it with silent pleasure, till Mrs Jo said in a quick whisper:
"I'm glad he's going away. He's too picturesque to have among so many romantic girls. Afraid his 'grand, gloomy and peculiar' style will be too much for our simple maids. — Louisa May Alcott

Though it pained me, I gave in. Why was it that I repeatedly succumbed to the first whisper of a promised maybe? How did the enticer, hope, always find my heart unguarded? There was no such thing as hope. Not for me. Why was it so hard to accept that? — Richelle E. Goodrich

This is the swamp as I see it, but what I can't capture on canvas is you as I see you. No brush or paint will ever show the hero that you are. It will never be able to portray the sound of your voice when you whisper my name. The way my skin tingles when you touch me. The passion of you inside me. I love you, Talon. I know that I can't keep you. No one can ever tame a wild beast. You have a job to do and so do I. I only hope that when you think of me, it'll bring a smile to your face. Love always, Sunshine. (Sunshine's note) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

All I can see when I look at him is a belt swinging toward Tobias, and the butt of a gun slamming into Caleb's jaw. I don't care that he hurt Caleb
I would have done it, too
but that he is simultaneously a man who knows how to hurt people and a man who parades around as the self-effacing leader of Abnegation, suddenly makes me so angry I can't see straight.
Especially because I chose him. I chose him over Tobias.
"Your brother is a traitor," says Marcus as we turn a corner. "He deserved worse. There's no need to look at me that way."
"Shut up!" I shout, shoving him hard into the wall. He is too surprised to push back. "I hate you, you know that! I hate you for what you did to him, and I am not talking about Caleb." I lean close to his face and whisper, "And while I may not shoot you myself, I will definitely not help you if someone tries to kill you, so you'd better hope to God we don't get into that situation. — Veronica Roth

Hope is the whisper of our soul. It is always with you. So never give up. Persist with love. — Debasish Mridha

She groaned as her face turned to press against the rosewood floor. "Welly, remind me to order a better mattress for my bed. This one is far too firm."
"Oh, Eliza," Wellington gasped, now remembering why he was in these lush surroundings. "No broken nose, I hope."
"S'all right," Braun slurred. Her voiced dropped to a whisper. "My ample bosom broke my fall. — Philippa Ballantine

Yesterday is gone and nothing but a memory. Maybe a bad one, but there's no way to call it back or change it. Tomorrow is just the whisper of a hope. Today is all you got. — Carolyn Brown

Jacob, what's wrong with you? Why would you want to do this? What kind of husband . . . what kind of man are you?"
"I don't know." Jacob's voice was a whisper. "But before I pledged myself to Annie, I pledged myself to God."
"I hope you know what you're doing." Montrose glanced back towards the kitchen. In their silence, they heard Annie's low sobs. "I hope it's worth it. — Willowy Whisper

O thou the last fulfilment of life, Death, my death, come and whisper to me!
Day after day I have kept watch for thee; for thee have I borne the joys and pangs of life.
All that I am, that I have, that I hope and all my love have ever flowed towards thee in depth of secrecy. One final glance from thine eyes and my life will be ever thine own.
The flowers have been woven and the garland is ready for the bridegroom. After the wedding the bride shall leave her home and meet her lord alone in the solitude of night. — Rabindranath Tagore

In the stillness of the quiet, if we listen, we can hear the whisper of the heart giving strength to weakness, courage to fear, hope to despair. — Howard Thurman

Are you still running that bar?" Maureen's voice dropped to a shocked whisper on the last word and Hope rolled her eyes, working the pick through Maureen's thick hair.
"The Cue Club? Yes, ma'am, I am." Angel leaned forward with her best devilish wink. "But I'm thinking of changing the name to the Den of Iniquity and getting some exotic dancers. You know, strippers."
Miss Maureen's eyes widened, pencil-thin brows nearly reaching the salt and pepper curls falling onto her forehead. — Linda Winfree

Take a discovery walk today to find what's missing in your life. There's peace in the whisper of the wind, hope in the sun smiling from behind clouds, strength in every step forward. You can do it! — Toni Sorenson

"I can't give you all the things I once hoped to," he says. "But I can give you a family and a home. I love you, Al. I just hope you can love a simple mechanic."
I wind my fingers through the wavy hair at his neck. I admire this side of him most of all ... his fragility, his flaws. His strength in spite of them. And now, he sees that strength with as much clarity and confidence as I always have.
"There will never be anything simple about you," I whisper. "And I already love you. — A.G. Howard

For our people, butterflies are a symbol of hope. It's said that if you capture one in your hands and whisper your dreams to it, it will carry them up to the heavens so that the wish can be granted. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

It isn't the young men who call to her at night. It's the Forest. It's the whisper of the trees that there's somethine else, outside the fences. That there's still a world that's bigger than any she could ever comprehend and all she has to do is find the strength to go after it. — Carrie Ryan

He leaned in and kissed her softly. "If you're finally going to let yourself love me, we're going to date."
"We sort of have been."
"No." He caught her hands and pulled her into his embrace. "We've been trying very hard not to date. Let me show you our world. Let me take you to dinner and whisper temptations. Let me take you to ridiculous carnival rides and symphonies and dances in the rain. I want you to laugh and smile and trust me first. i want it to be real love if you are in my bed. — Melissa Marr

Christmas is a whisper of peace and a sigh of hope on the lips of love. — Richelle E. Goodrich

Comfort When I hit that wall, and I am going to hit it As I'm lying on the floor consumed by despair don't try and pick me up don't whisper words of comfort Don't tell me it's going to be ok Let me be in this moment where I think it's not Lie beside me and let me find hope in the comfort of your presence Let me deal with my thoughts and fears I will eventually reprimand myself for indulging in such an emotion for so long I will want to get up and keep moving forward Until then, let me lie here and let the salt of my tears sting the wounds you can't see Until I'm ready, let me be I have to heal myself — Samantha King

You asked if I loved her?
I can't even whisper her name, my heart would burst out of my chest. — Ahmad Ardalan

She knows that whispers can be useful. Sometimes they contain real information. But usually they're fairy tales and lies. This is the worst kind of whisper, the kind that draws you in, gives you hope. — Julianna Baggott

Ezra.' The dawn of hope in her whisper.
He nods, swallowing hard.
She pushes to her feet, swaying, and the movement seems to release him - the next moment he's running across the shuttle bay, watched by the debrief crew in the doorway, who know better than to move a muscle.
She steps forward, one foot in front of the other, and then he reaches her, and they come together with a crash. Her arms curl up around his neck, and his mouth finds her like he's drowning and she's air and her feet come clean off the ground as the world is forgotten. And they're together. — Amie Kaufman

It is amazing how much knowledge we have of hope. Whisper bravely into the dark, heart - whisper bravely. — Simon J. Ortiz

Why can't I find you? I know you're out there.
Why am I forced to live a life of despair?
I want to find you and hold your hand.
My heart beats for you it's all I can stand.
I know I will find you and hope someday soon.
Until then I will think of you and stare at the moon.
I know my heart beats for you and you alone.
Until then it's heavy and feels like stone.
I want to hold you in my arms and whisper a soft word.
The feeling of your touch would make my soul be stirred.
For this is a dream and it will never be.
If only you knew I'm out here and could see.
For I am lonesome for you and want this so much.
To feel your skin on mine as we touch.
I long for the day we meet and you're part of my life.
For until you do this solitude cuts me like a knife.
John A Miller — John A. Miller

Heaven is inside us,' Ida uttered in a rather loud whisper. — H. L. Balcomb

Faith
I whisper your name like a prayer - with all the hope of heaven.
I trace the lines of your palm and draw a map to salvation.
I hear the knock of your heart and I answer it like my calling. — Lang Leav

There is always hope and room for faith. Unless, of course, you trust the voice that screams otherwise, while ignoring the whisper that knows this to be true. — Charles F. Glassman

It is clearly not the journey for everyone. People succeed in as many ways as there are people. Some can be completely fulfilled with destinations that are much closer to home and more comfortable. But if you long to keep going, then I hope you are able to follow my lead to the places I have gone. To within a whisper of your own personal perfection. To places that are sweeter because you worked so hard to arrive there. To places at the very edge of your dreams. — Michael Johnson

Although it was only a single instrument, each note had the peculiar echoed quality of a thousand harmonics voiced together. There was a whisper behind the strongest note and a shout beneath the softest, and they sang of far off places in long forgotten times. There were no words, but the images of ancient pride, noble heritage, and castles in the sand were imagined from the progression. This was the song that would be played at the birth of a nation, full of hope and promise of better days ahead. This was the song of the end of days with all love and longing lost beyond recall or desire. Farris could see this song playing at her wedding, or her funeral, as a herald of joy and sorrow. She found tears in her eyes and heard herself laugh, and she couldn't say why she was doing either. Her skin was tense and covered with goosebumps, and she shivered with pleasure. — Tobias Wade

It was a whisper in the soul, a lump in the throat, and an echo in the deep and hidden places of the heart. It was the hope that we are loved, truly loved, and that we are known. It was what I wanted more than anything. — Donna VanLiere

Fairy tales in childhood are stepping stones throughout life, leading the way through trouble and trial. The value of fairy tales lies not in a brief literary escape from reality, but in the gift of hope that goodness truly is more powerful than evil and that even the darkest reality can lead to a Happily Ever After. Do not take that gift of hope lightly. It has the power to conquer despair in the midst of sorrow, to light the darkness in the valleys of life, to whisper "One more time" in the face of failure. Hope is what gives life to dreams, making the fairy tale the reality. — L.R. Knost

Love's arms were wreathed about the neck of Hope,
And Hope kiss'd Love, and Love drew in her breath
In that close kiss and drank her whisper'd tales.
They said that Love would die when Hope was gone.
And Love mourn'd long, and sorrow'd after Hope;
At last she sought out Memory, and they trod
The same old paths where Love had walked with Hope,
And Memory fed the soul of Love with tears. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

We will die soon; and still our "hope is from him." May we not expect that when we face illness He will send angels to carry us to His bosom? We believe that when the pulse is faint and the heart is weak, some angelic messenger shall stand and look with loving eyes upon us and whisper, "Come away!" As we approach the heavenly gate, we expect to hear the welcome invitation, "Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world."1 We are expecting harps of gold and crowns of glory; we are hoping soon to be among the company of shining ones before the throne; we are looking forward and longing for the time when we shall be like our glorious Lord - for "We shall see him as he is."2 Then if these are your hopes, O my soul, live for God; live with the desire and resolve to glorify Him from whose grace in your election, redemption, and calling you safely "hope" for the coming glory. — Anonymous

I would say Pittsburgh softly each time before throwing him up. Whisper Pittsburgh with my mouth against the tiny ear and throw him higher. Pittsburgh and happiness high up. The only way to leave even the smallest trace. So that all his life her son would feel gladness unaccountably when anyone spoke of the ruined city of steel in America. Each time almost remembering something maybe important that got lost. — Jack Gilbert

Bad news. If you can see it coming, you brace yourself; you weigh the outcome. But there's always that niggling voice, that voice of hope whispering, 'Maybe it's good news.' Whether you can admit it or not, that little whisper is a potent thing. — Lily Gardner

Chili is one of those marvelous-simple, elemental, all-important, and fundamental concepts that has been elaborated out of all recognition: rather like justice, or objective reality, or 'being' (ens) in Aquinas. Lean closer and I will whisper to you a horrific, soul-shattering secret: there are actually people so lost to any sense of decency that they put beans in chili. (I hope you sent the children of tender years out of the room before we discussed that horror, lest they be warped for life). — Markham Shaw Pyle

What you complain of in yourself, comprises the best marks of grace I can offer. A sense of unworthiness and weakness, joined with a hope in the Savior, constitutes the character of a Christian in this world. But you want the witness of the Spirit. What do you mean by this? Is it a whisper or a voice from heaven, to encourage you to believe that you may venture to hope that the promises of God are true, that he means what he says, and is able to make his word good? Your eyes are opened, you are weary of sin, you love the way of salvation yourself, and love to point it out to others, you are devoted to God, to his cause and people. It was not so with you once. Either you have somewhere stolen these blessings, or you have received them from the Holy Spirit. — Tony Reinke

Do you feel that? It is a calm shift in the wind.
Do you hear that? It is a soft whisper of hope.
Do you see that? It is the divine hand of guidance, mercifully extended to aid our good fight. — Richelle E. Goodrich

"I like you," I whisper and immediately stare at my shoes. Of all the things I could have said, that shouldn't have been it. I. Am. An. Idiot.
A gentle tug on my hair sends goose bumps raining down my arms. I close my eyes and relish the sweet brush of his knuckles against my neck as he flips my hair over my shoulder. "Rachel?"
"Yes?" I say so softly he may not have heard me.
His hand caresses the sensitive spot right below my chin, and with a gentle pressure, Isaiah raises my head until I look into those warm silver eyes. "I like you, too."
The right side of my mouth quirks and a spring of hope bubbles up inside me. He likes me. A really hot, really awesome guy likes me. — Katie McGarry

When I reach the end of one row, I continue straight on away from the barn and the farm and the road. I walk until I come to a pile of hay bales and plop myself down. The sun is bright and the air is sharp. In the distance I hear the lowing of cows. It's so peaceful here.
"Merry Christmas, " I whisper to myself. "Merry Christmas, Nate. — Lisa Ann Sandell

Do not seek to find hope among your leaders. They are the repositories of poison. Their interest in you extends only so far as their ability to control you. From you, they seek duty and obedience, and they will ply you with the language of stirring faith. They seek followers, and woe to those who question, or voice challenge. 'Civilization after civilization, it is the same. The world falls to tyranny with a whisper. The frightened are ever keen to bow to a perceived necessity, in the belief that necessity forces conformity, and conformity a certain stability. In a world shaped into conformity, dissidents stand out, are easily branded and dealt with. There is no multitude of perspectives, no dialogue. The victim assumes the face of the tyrant, self-righteous and intransigent, and wars breed like vermin. And people die. — Steven Erikson

Everyday in heat, rain or cold, I ran - alone in the woods - in the hills near our home. There I felt the gentle touch of God. I head Him whisper, 'You're stronger now. It's time to tell the truth of what happened. Tell your story to give hope to others. — Nikki Rosen

Hope is the whisper of our heart about the possibilities of our lives. — Debasish Mridha

Anything approaching the change that came over his features I have never seen before, and hope never to see again. Oh, I wasn't touched. I was fascinated. It was as though a veil had been rent. I saw on that ivory face the expression of sombre pride, of ruthless power, of craven terror
of an intense and hopeless despair. Did he live his life again in every detail of desire, temptation, and surrender during that supreme moment of complete knowledge? He cried in a whisper at some image, at some vision
he cried out twice, a cry that was no more than a breath:
The horror! The horror! — Joseph Conrad

My breasts are small," I said in a whisper, but immediately despised myself because it sounded as if I were making excuses, excuse me if I can't offer you big tits, I hope you enjoy yourself anyway, idiot that I was, if he liked little tits, good; if not, the worse for him, it was all free, a stroke of luck had fallen to this shit, the best birthday present he could hope for, at his age. — Elena Ferrante

It's about us," I whisper. He looks confused. "What are you talking about?" "The book. It's the story of us." He sighs as if he's been waiting to hear these words all his life. "I hope it never ends. — Cassia Leo

There is point in your life when you come face to face with the reality that you cannot take another step on your own. For me, I had never experienced that point, but depression brought me there. I have slowly, painfully and continually been confronted by my brokenness. Coming to terms with the fact that I am broken has been at the center of my accepting my being loved.
For me, now, there exists a sense of desperate need for what God brings to my spiritual and mental self. Without His voice I cannot cope with the darkness, but with His whisper of "you are My beloved", I can take a step each day away from the chasm. I am broken but not beyond mending, not beyond love.
It has been this desperation that has opened a crevice in which I am seeing Him for the first time. He is why my soul can find some peace even when my mind is dark and numb. It is this love that continually has brought me back from the edge of the impostor to the honesty of my broken, inner self — David Hulon Hood

All you need is a pinch of Grace," I whisper, sprinkling it on the pie. "And a dash of Hope," she follows, tossing more on top. "To make life sweeter." I turn and press a kiss to her cheek. "And help love grow," she whispers, kissin' my cheek back, her tears mixin' with my own. — K.C. Lynn

I know I'm not alone and I don't walk alone. That I won't. When the thin whisper of a veil between what I can't see and what I can is pulled back and for one brief second I get a glimpse of what will be. Where the words 'might' and 'hope' intersect. — Charles Martin

It throbbed and pulsed, channeled by elemental forces of fear, love, hope, and sadness. The bow stabbed and flitted across the strings in a violent whorl of creation; its hairs tore and split until it seemed the last strands would sever in a scrape of dissonance. Those who saw the last fragile remnants held their breath against the breaking. The music rippled across the ship like a spirit, like a thing alive and eldritch and pregnant with mystery. The song held. More than held, it deepened. It groaned. It resounded in the hollows of those who heard. Then it softened into tones long, slow, and patient and reminded men of the faintest stars trembling dimly in defiance of a ravening dark. At the last, when the golden hairs of the bow had given all the sound they knew, the music fled in a whisper. Fin was both emptied and filled, and the song sighed away on the wind. — A.S. Peterson

He begins to sing to her, very softly, almost not singing at all, just a whisper of a tune. He spins out the tune like it is a tale he is telling her, until he feels her body relax, until he feels her falling into sleep. He sings to let her know he's there, to stay anchored to the earth, to keep from laughing or crying in amazement that he is lying with Alice in his arms, he sings as if music could keep her alive, as if music could feed her soul, as if music could weave a protective spell around her to survive these days and these weeks and these months and these years, he sings as if he could give her a piece of himself, which will ring inside of her like a bell, like a promise, like hope whenever she needs him; and in his singing, he promises her every single thing he can think of, and more. — Laura Harrington