The heart which beats in your chest is a warrior's heart. The heart of a Mikaelson. Whatever hold this power has over you, it is nothing compared to your strength. Yours is a power greater than you know.

— Listen, I found Hope exploring the rubbish in the attic. She's restless.
— She's not restless. She's bored. Most kids her age would be at school. They'd have friends to play with.
— Well, once Freya teaches her to hone her magic, she'll be powerful beyond measure. She won't need friends. She'll be worshipped.
— She doesn't want to be worshipped. She just wants someone to hold the other end of the jump rope.
— She'll be above such things. She will have power enough to protect herself from anything.

I'm not scared. I'm a Mikaelson witch.

I can protect myself, and my mom and dad. I'm strong enough to stop the bad guys. I'm stronger than anybody thinks!

— You aren't just anyone, Hope. You're a firstborn Mikaelson witch. With a terrifying amount of power, even without the darkness that your family is keeping you away from.
— So, what? I'm so sensitive, everyone's afraid I'm just gonna flip out?
— Well, when people like you and me flip out, entire villages can burn.

— All of the witches in New Orleans think that I'm gonna melt the city if she doesn't come home.
— You can do that?
— Probably. I don't know.

All that power… still merciful. You clearly didn't get that from my side of the family.

I'm either the powerful, petty bitch or the good, weak victim.