Cry The Beloved Country Quotes

Happy the eyes that can close

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

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

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.

There is not much talking now. A silence falls upon them all. This is no time to talk of hedges and fields, or the beauties of any country. Sadness and fear and hate, how they well up in the heart and mind, whenever one opens pages of these messengers of doom. Cry for the broken tribe, for the law and the custom that is gone. Aye, and cry aloud for the man who is dead, for the woman and children bereaved. 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.

There is a lovely road that runs from Ixopo into the hills. These hills are grass-covered and rolling, and they are lovely beyond any singing of it.

There is a man sleeping in the grass. And over him is gathering the greatest storm of all his days. Such lightening and thunder will come there has never been seen before, bringing death and destruction. People hurry home past him, to places safe from danger. And whether they do not see him there in the grass, or whether they fear to halt even a moment, but they do not wake him, they let him be.

And money is not something to go mad about ... Money is for food and clothes and comfort, and a visit to the pictures. Money is to make happy the lives of children.

But sorrow is better than fear. For fear impoverishes always, while sorrow may enrich.

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.

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

I am a weak and sinful man, but God put His hands on me, that is all.

Now God be thanked that the name of a hill is such music, that the name of a river can heal.

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

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.

For mines are for men, not for money. And money is not something to go mad about, and throw your hat into the air for. Money is for food and clothes and comfort, and a visit to the pictures. Money is to make happy the lives of children. Money is for security, and for dreams, and for hopes, and for purposes. Money is for buying the fruits of the earth, of the land where you were born.

I have never thought that a Christian would be free of suffering, umfundisi. For our Lord suffered. And I come to believe that he suffered, not to save us from suffering, but to teach us how to bear suffering. For he knew that there is no life without suffering.

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

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

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

Nothing is ever quiet, except for fools.

But the one thing that has power completely is love, because when a man loves, he seeks no power, and therefore he has power.

There is only one thing that has power completely, and that is love.

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.

Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that's the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply. Let him not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his fingers, nor stand too silent when the setting sun makes red the veld with fire. Let him not be too moved when the birds of his land are singing. Nor give too much of his heart to a mountain or a valley. For fear will rob him if he gives too much.

Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply... For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much.

There is a lovely road that runs from Ixopo into the hills.

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

Sorrow is better than fear. Fear is a journey,a terrible journey, but sorrow is at least an arrival. When the storm threatens, a man is afraid for his house. But when the house is destroyed, there is something to do. About a storm he can do nothing, but he can rebuild a house.

It is not permissible to add to one's possesions if these things can only be done at the cost of other men. Such development has only one true name, and that is exploitation.