Vain hopes are like certain dreams of those who wake.

The Roman orator Quintilian, master of rhetoric and teacher of emperors, once spoke a truth that pierces across the centuries: “Vain hopes are like certain dreams of those who wake.” These words, though simple, carry the weight of eternal wisdom. For in them lies the warning that false hopes—those desires unanchored by reason or effort—are as fleeting as dreams that fade at dawn. They shimmer brightly in the night of our longing, but when daylight comes, they dissolve, leaving the heart empty and the spirit disoriented. Quintilian, who lived in the time of emperors and philosophers, had seen many men undone not by failure, but by illusion—by the pursuit of what could never be made real.

To understand his words, one must grasp the nature of hope itself. Hope is sacred; it is the breath of the soul that moves man to endure, to strive, to build. But when hope becomes vain, when it detaches from truth and labor, it becomes a mirage—comforting to the eyes, deadly to the wanderer. A vain hope is like a dream of gold that vanishes when one reaches for it. It deceives not through malice, but through the weakness of our own desire to believe. Thus, Quintilian reminds us that wisdom lies not in extinguishing hope, but in purifying it—making it serve truth rather than fantasy.

In the world of Quintilian’s Rome, men often placed their faith in fortune—the favor of the gods, the whispers of fate, or the promises of powerful patrons. Yet Rome, ever a teacher of pride and ruin, showed again and again that fortune is fickle. Quintilian had seen the mighty fall—emperors overthrown, generals disgraced, poets exiled. Their downfall was not always from lack of skill, but from vain expectation, from dreaming that power or favor would never fail them. And when the empire’s storms broke, their hopes vanished like mist before the sun. Thus, he likened such hopes to dreams—visions that comfort the sleeper, but vanish when reality awakens him to truth.

The wisdom of his words has echoed through all ages. Consider Christopher Columbus, whose faith in his voyage across the unknown sea was both a noble hope and, in parts, a vain one. He dreamed of gold and glory, of finding the rich lands of the East. His courage carried him far, yet his expectations—those of endless riches and simple conquest—were illusions. The world he found was not the one he imagined. Still, his endeavor, though driven by error, changed the course of history. In him we see the two faces of hope: one vain, the other divine. For even vain hopes can awaken great deeds, if we learn from their failure and see truth in their ashes.

Quintilian’s teaching, however, warns us not to dwell in such dreams forever. There are those who live always in vain hope—waiting for success without striving, for love without giving, for peace without sacrifice. These are the dreamers who never wake, whose lives pass like shadows between sleep and day. To hope without action, to expect without discipline, is to live as one who sleeps while life unfolds around him. Such a person, when finally awakened by time or fate, will find that his years have slipped away like sand through unguarded fingers.

Therefore, my listener, learn to distinguish between true hope and vain hope. True hope is born of courage, reason, and faith—it is the flame that endures even in hardship. Vain hope is born of idleness, illusion, and denial—it glitters briefly but leaves only darkness behind. When you set your heart upon something, ask yourself: Is this a dream of the sleeper, or the vision of the awakened? The first fades with morning; the second endures through every storm.

Take this teaching, then, as a guide for living: dream, but awaken. Let your hopes be your companions, not your captors. Strive toward them with open eyes, and if they fail, let them fail in truth, not in delusion. For even a broken, honest dream teaches more than a vain one that lulls you into slumber. As Quintilian knew, the soul that awakens from illusion to reality becomes wiser, stronger, and freer.

And so I say: cherish your hopes, but test them by the light of reason. Work for what you desire, and let each disappointment refine your strength. For only those who dare to awaken can truly build their dreams—not in the fleeting realm of night, but in the enduring day of life.