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.