How precarious is life; how violent, hope. In the mortal world in which we live, forever is but a sentiment of fondness, hopefulness, wishful thinking – desire for continuation. Forever, here, with future best uncertain, worst, denied; despite and still, hope may yet find itself fulfilled, but only thus. Beyond wish, desire, longing, craving, anticipation; surpassing whim, faith must supersede, belief enlivened, reality assured. When belief is actuality, faith becomes endeavour, hope becomes strategy. Perhaps if but for hope the heart would break; but were it not for faith, belief unfailing, the heart would surely find no healing.