Nothing Is Ever Quiet, Except

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.

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.

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.

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.

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