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.

Who knows for what we live, and struggle, and die?... Wise men write many books, in words too hard to understand. But this, the purpose of our lives, the end of all our struggle, is beyond all human wisdom.

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

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

Although nothing has come yet, something is here already.

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

One day in Johannesburg, and already the tribe was being rebuilt, the house and soul being restored.