Life Is Hard

Life is not a narrative “that swells and tautens until climax”; it’s not all about getting things done. Responsibility for justice need not rest on blame

Love need not be earned; grief is no
mistake; and the tempering of grief is not betrayal.

Other concepts we should leave behind: the concept of the best life as a guideline or a goal, of being happy as the human good, of self-interest divorced from the good of others.

Again, the question is not whether to hope but what for. We can hope that life has meaning: a slow, unsteady march toward a more just future.

There are limits to hope, and death is one.

In the spirit of this book, the answer’s not an ideal life. What we need is acknowledgment and close reading of the lives we have.

The question, then, is not whether to hope but what we should hope for.

The virtue of hoping well is a matter of belief, of standing with or searching for the truth, attending to what’s possible.

The point of clinging to possibility is not to feel good—hope may be more painful than despair—but to keep the flicker of potential agency alive.

To hope well is to be realistic about probabilities, not to succumb to wishful thinking or be cowed by fear; it is to hold possibilities open when you should.