There are voices crying what must be done, a hundred, a thousand voices. But what do they help if one seeks for counsel, for one cries this, and one cries that, and another cries something that is neither this nor that.

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.

The Afrikaner has nowhere to go, and thats why he would rather destroy himself than capitulate.

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

Although nothing has come yet, something is here already.

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.

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