Hope (n.) goes on without a science of how society unfolds, which even the cleverest lacks: if you fight, you fight, and if you hope, you hope, and one can fight, hope and even believe without believing scientifically.
Hope (n.) living in the breast is a picture of some important piece of human behaviour.
Hope (n.) is easy to deny an orang-utan, though we can readily imagine one angry.
Hope (n.) has two presents: the exclamation I hope he comes, and the report I keep on hoping — said while shaking my head at myself.
Hope (n.) and fear count as emotions because their expression runs parallel to behaviour, as belief's does not.
Hope (n.) is directed to the future — is there the same feeling aimed at the present or past, the same mental movement with a different object?
Hope (n.) is embedded in human life, in all its situations and reactions; the crocodile doesn't hope, man does.
Hope (n.) is an emotion akin to belief, which is not one; belief has no typical bodily expression.
Hope (n.) has no gestures, unlike anger, which is easy to act; one cannot play-act hoping someone will return.
Hope (n.) might be called quiet joyful expectation, though there is something repugnant about analysing it this way.
Hope (n.) does not stop when you start whistling cheerfully and stop thinking of the one you hope will come.
Hope (n.) said to someone's face — I hope you come — is not a report of a state with a duration.
Hope (n.) is no inner process with a hidden start date; little by little daily life makes room for hoping.