Because Life Slips Away, And Because I

We Do Not Work For Men. We Work For The Land And The People. We Do Not Even Work For Money.

There Is Only One Thing That Has Power Completely, And That Is Love.

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

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