“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.”

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 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.

Although nothing has come yet, something is here already.

But to punish and not to restore, that is the greatest of all offences.

This is no time to talk of hedges and fields, or the beauties of any country.

Money is to make happy the lives of children. Money is for security, and for dreams, and for hopes, and for purposes.

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

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.

Forgive us all, for we all have trespasses.

Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that’s the inheritor of our fear.

Money is for buying the fruits of the earth, of the land where you were born.

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.

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.

Fear is a journey,a terrible journey, but sorrow is at least an arrival.

There is not much talking now. A silence falls upon them all.

These hills are grass-covered and rolling, and they are lovely beyond any singing of it.

Stupidity is something unshakable; nothing attacks it without breaking itself against it; it is of the nature of granite, hard and resistant.

Ernest Hemingway was always uneasy in New York and liked being there less than in any other city he frequented.

I must be more sensible and realize that at my age, illusions are hardly permitted and they will always destroy me.

The power of the Latin classic is in character , that of the Greek is in beauty . Now character is capable of being taught, learnt, and assimilated: beauty hardly.

All things that God would have us do are hard for us to do–remember that–and hence, he oftener commands us than endeavours to persuade.

Once killing starts, it is difficult to draw the line.

A man of true science… thinks, that by mouthing hard words, he proves that he understands hard things.

It is hard to be finite upon an infinite subject, and all subjects are infinite.