There Is A Lovely Road That Runs

Although Nothing Has Come Yet, Something Is Here Already.

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.

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.

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

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