Hope is dope.

Hope has an eye on help.

Hope is a racing bike’s climbing gear.

For a rift and a cliff, hope is a rope.

Despair is a cyclops; hope is a chameleon.

Hope says nope — and yope.

The future tense was constructed out of hope.

Hope operates like the inner ear; it encodes information about equilibrium.

When life shrinks your perspectives, order hope; specify extra-large.

Hope is a product of God; it is manufactured within a place called sovereignty.

Hope has a secret service; it travels within a protective entourage.

Hope puts a hand on the past; it steadies itself with one on the future.

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