Hope makes a good breakfast, but a bad supper. Probably because hope is like the morning glory which blooms in the rosy brightness of the dawn, and wilts and fades in the pitiless heat of the sun. For a specific example of hope, consider the magnificently appointed sports car, moving along the turnpike, just this side of the speed limit. Why? Because the sleekly handsome young man behind the wheel fervently hopes that he will not be stopped. But his hopes are about to be dashed...