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.

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

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.

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.

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

When men are ruled by fear, they strive to prevent the very changes that will abate it.