
Sorrow is better than fear. Fear is a journey, a terrible journey. But, sorrow is at least an arriving.

The tragedy is not that things are broken. The tragedy is that things are not mended again.

But there is only one thing that has power completely, and this is love. Because when a man loves, he seeks no power, and therefore he has power.

I have one great fear in my heart, that one day when they are turned to loving, they will find that we are turned to hating.

There is a hard law. When an injury is done to us, we never recover until we forgive.

Pain and suffering, they are a secret. Kindness and love, they are a secret. But I have learned that kindness and love can pay for pain and suffering.

The Judge does not make the law. It is people that make the law. Therefore if a law is unjust, and if the Judge judges according to the law, that is justice, even if it is not just.

Happy the eyes that can close

The truth is, our civilization is not Christian; it is a tragic compound of great ideal and fearful practice, of loving charity and fearful clutching of possessions.

For it is the dawn that has come, as it has come for a thousand centuries, never failing.

There is only one way in which one can endure man's inhumanity to man and that is to try, in one's own life, to exemplify man's humanity to man.

Because life slips away, and because I need for the rest of my journey a star that will not play false to me, a compass that will not lie.

For who can stop the heart from breaking?

It is not permissible for us to go on destroying the family life when we know that we are destroying it.

And were your back as broad as heaven, and your purse full of gold, and did your compassion reach from here to hell itself, there is nothing you can do.

I have always found that actively loving saves one from a morbid preoccupation with the shortcomings of society.

It was not his habit to dwell on what might have been but what could never be.

We do not work for men. We work for the land and the people. We do not even work for money.

But when that dawn will come, of our emancipation, from the fear of bondage and the bondage of fear, why, that is a secret.

Indeed, mother, you are always our helper." "For what else are we born?

One thing is about to be finished, but here is something that is only begun. And while I live it will continue

What broke in a man when he could bring himself to kill another?

Nothing is ever quiet, except for fools.

In a land of fear... incorruptibility is like a lamp set upon a stand, giving light to all in the house.

There's a hard law, mejuffrou, that when a deep injury is done to us, we never recover until we forgive.

But to punish and not to restore, that is the greatest of all offences.

Therefore let us sell our labour for what it is worth. And if an industry cannot buy our labour, let that industry die. But let us not sell our labour cheap to keep an industry alive.

The judge does not make the law. It is the people that make the law. It is the duty of a judge to do justice, but it is only the people that can be just

Meneer, said the captain, if man takes unto himself God's right to punish, then he must also take upon himself God's promise to restore.

Something in the humble voice must have touched Msimangu, for he said, I am not kind. I am a selfish and sinful man, but God put his hands on me, that is all.

For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much.

Nothing is every quiet, except for fools.

Indeed, there is something in this valley, some spirit and some life, and much to talk about in the huts. Although nothing has come yet, something is here already.

I do this not because I am courageous and honest, but because it is the only way to end the conflict of my deepest soul.

He is a missionary and believes in God, intensely I mean, but it takes all kinds to make a world.

Stand unshod upon it, for the ground is holy, being even as it came from the Creator. Keep it, guard it, care for it, for it keeps men, guards men, cares for men. Destroy it and man is destroyed.

Deep down the fear of a man who lives in a world not made for him, whose own world is slipping away, dying, being destroyed, beyond any recall.

Cry, the beloved country, these things are not yet at an end. The sun pours down on the earth, on the lovely land that man cannot enjoy. He knows only the fear of his heart.