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But The One Thing That Has Power Completely Is Love, Because When A Man Loves, He Seeks No Power, And Therefore He Has Power.

-Alan Paton

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But The One Thing

Alan Paton

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But The One Thing That Has Power Completely Is Love, Because When A Man Loves, He Seeks No Power, And Therefore He Has Power.

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One Thing Is About To Be Finished, But Here Is Something That Is Only Begun. And While I Live It Will Continue

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.

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.

Ask Yourself Not If This Or That Is Expedient, But If It Is Right.

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.

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.

What Broke In A Man When He Could Bring Himself To Kill Another?

Killing Each Other

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.

It Was Not His Habit To Dwell On What Could Have Been, But What Could Never Be.

Could Have Been

When Men Are Ruled By Fear, They Strive To Prevent The Very Changes That Will Abate It.

For It Is The Dawn That Has Come, As It Has Come For A Thousand Centuries, Never Failing.

Cry The Beloved Country

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.

Cry The Beloved Country

Beloved Country

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.

For Who Can Stop The Heart From Breaking?

One Day In Johannesburg, And Already The Tribe Was Being Rebuilt, The House And Soul Being Restored.

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.

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.

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.

Life Has Not Taught Me To Expect Nothing, But She Has Taught Me Not To Expect Success To Be The Inevitable Result Of My Endeavors. She Taught Me To Seek Sustenance From The Endeavor Itself, But To Leave The Result To God.

The Tragedy Is Not That Things Are Broken. The Tragedy Is That Things Are Not Mended Again.

Cry The Beloved Country

When I Go Up There, Which Is My Intention, The Big Judge Will Say To Me, Where Are Your Wounds? And If I Say I Haven’t Any, He Will Say, Was There Nothing To Fight For? I Couldn’t Face That Question. (ah, But Your Land Is Beautiful)

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.

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.

Nothing Is Ever Quiet, Except For Fools.

Cry The Beloved Country

Nosecond Johannesburg Isneededuponthe Earth.one Is Enough.

All Roads Lead To Johannesburg.

There Is A Lovely Road That Runs From Ixopo Into The Hills.

Cry The Beloved Country

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 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.

Now God Be Thanked That The Name Of A Hill Is Such Music, That The Name Of A River Can Heal.

Cry The Beloved Country

St. Francis Of Assisi Taught Me That There Is A Wound In The Creation And That The Greatest Use We Could Make Of Our Lives Was To Ask To Be Made A Healer Of It.

St Francis Of Assisi

Sorrow Is Better Than Fear. Fear Is A Journey, A Terrible Journey. But, Sorrow Is At Least An Arriving.

But When The Dawn Will Come, Of Our Emancipation, From The Fear Of Bondage And The Bondage Of Fear, Why, That Is A Secret.

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It Is My Belief That The Only Power Which Can Resist The Power Of Fear Is The Power Of Love.

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.

But To Punish And Not To Restore, That Is The Greatest Of All Offences.

Something Deep Is Touched Here, Something That Is Good And Deep.

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.

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.

Forgive Us All, For We All Have Trespasses.

I Envision Someday A Great, Peaceful South Africa In Which The World Will Take Pride, A Nation In Which Each Of Many Different Groups Will Be Making Its Own Creative Contribution.

Although Nothing Has Come Yet, Something Is Here Already.

If You Wrote A Novel In South Africa Which Didn't Concern The Central Issues, It Wouldn't Be Worth Publishing.

The Only Way In Which One Can Make Endurable Man's Inhumanity To Man, And Man's Destruction Of His Own Environment, Is To Exemplify In Your Own Lives Man's Humanity To Man And Man's Reverence For The Place In Which He Lives.

Inhumanity To Man

In The Deserted Harbour There Is Yet Water That Laps Against The Quays. In The Dark And Silent Forest, There Is A Leaf That Falls. Behind The Polished Panelling The White Ant Eats Away The Wood. Nothing Is Ever Quiet, Except For Fools

For Fear Will Rob Him Of All If He Gives Too Much.

Happy The Eyes That Can Close

Cry The Beloved Country

What Broke In A Man When He Could Bring Himself To Kill Another? What Broke When He Could Bring Himself To Thrust Down The Knife Into The Warm Flesh, To Bring Down The Axe On The Living Head, To Cleave Down Between The Seeing Eyes, To Shoot The Gun That Would Drive Death Into The Beating Heart?

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.

It Is Not Permissible For Us To Go On Destroying The Family Life When We Know That We Are Destroying It.

Cry The Beloved Country

But Sorrow Is Better Than Fear. For Fear Impoverishes Always, While Sorrow May Enrich.

Cry The Beloved Country

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.

It Is Not "forgive And Forget" As If Nothing Wrong Had Ever Happened, But "forgive And Go Forward," Building On The Mistakes Of The Past And The Energy Generated By Reconciliation To Create A New Future.

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.

I Have Always Found That Actively Loving Saves One From A Morbid Preoccupation With The Shortcomings Of Society.

I Am A Weak And Sinful Man, But God Put His Hands On Me, That Is All.

Cry The Beloved Country

To Give Up The Task Of Reforming Society Is To Give Up One's Responsibility As A Free Man.

But Perhaps When You Were Too Obedient, And Did Not Do Openly What Others Did, And Were Quiet In Church And Hard-working At School, Then Some Unknown Rebellion Brewed In You, Doing Harm To You, Though How I Do Not Understand.

The Afrikaner Has Nowhere To Go, And Thats Why He Would Rather Destroy Himself Than Capitulate.

Let Me Not Be Afraid To Defend The Weak Because Of The Anger Of The Strong, Nor Afraid To Defend The Poor Because Of The Anger Of The Rich.

When A Deep Injury Is Done Us, We Never Recover Until We Forgive.

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