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.
Interpretation
The quote celebrates the beauty of a scenic landscape and suggests that some experiences are beyond words.
Alan Paton's quote paints a vivid picture of a picturesque road and surrounding hills, emphasizing the overwhelming beauty of nature that often leaves one speechless. It suggests that some landscapes and experiences can evoke feelings that words cannot fully capture, highlighting the profound connection between humans and the natural world.
In practice
In a speech about the importance of preserving natural landscapes, one might use this quote to illustrate the indescribable beauty of nature.
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.
Ask yourself not if this or that is expedient, but if it is right.
One day in Johannesburg, and already the tribe was being rebuilt, the house and soul being restored.
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?
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.
If you wrote a novel in South Africa which didn't concern the central issues, it wouldn't be worth publishing.
One day's exposure to mountains is better than a cartload of books.
The responses that environmentalists evoke - fear, anxiety, numbness, despair - are not helpful, even if they are understandable. It should be fascinating, even enthralling, to be in the milieu of environmental change.
A Christmas frost had come at midsummer; a white December storm had whirled over June; ice glazed the ripe apples, drifts crushed the blowing roses; on hayfield and cornfield lay a frozen shroud: lanes which last night blushed full of flowers, to-day were pathless with untrodden snow; and the woods, which twelve hours since waved leafy and flagrant as groves between the tropics, now spread, waste, wild, and white as pine-forests in wintry Norway.
Lo! sweeten'd with the summer light,_x000D_ _x000D_ The full-juiced apple, waxing over-mellow,_x000D_ _x000D_ Drops in a silent autumn night._x000D_ _x000D_ All its allotted length of days_x000D_ _x000D_ The flower ripens in its place,_x000D_ _x000D_ Ripens and fades, and falls, and hath no toil,_x000D_ _x000D_ Fast-rooted in the fruitful soil.
A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
At two o'clock in the morning, if you open your window and listen, You will hear the feet of the Wind that is going to call the sun. And the trees in the Shadow rustle and the trees in the moonlight glisten, And though it is deep, dark night, you feel that the night is done.
Subscribe for the occasional hand-picked quote. No noise.