AtomicQuote

Alan Paton Quote

It was to the small serious boy that he turned for his enjoyment. He had bought the child some cheap wooden blocks, and with these the little one played endlessly and intently, with a purpose obscure to the adult mind, but completely absorbing.

Alan Paton

It was to the small serious boy that he turned for his enjoyment. He had bought the child some cheap wooden blocks, and with these the little one played endlessly and intently, with a purpose obscure to the adult mind, but completely absorbing.

Tags: cry the beloved country

Related Quotes

Have you a room that you could let?Yes, I have a room that I could let, but I do not want to let it. I have only two rooms, and there are six of us already, and the boys and girls are growing up. But...

Alan Paton

Have you a room that you could let?Yes, I have a room that I could let, but I do not want to let it. I have only two rooms, and there are six of us already, and the boys and girls are growing up. But...

Tags: alan paton, cry the beloved country, south africa

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...

Alan Paton

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...

Tags: alan paton, cry the beloved country, south africa

All roads lead to Johannesburg. If you are white or if you are black they lead to Johannesburg. If the crops fail, there is work in Johannesburg. If there are taxes to be paid, there is work in Johann...

Alan Paton

All roads lead to Johannesburg. If you are white or if you are black they lead to Johannesburg. If the crops fail, there is work in Johannesburg. If there are taxes to be paid, there is work in Johann...

Tags: alan paton, cry the beloved country

I see only one hope for our country, and that is when white men and black men, desiring neither power nor money, but desiring only the good for their country, come together to work for it.I have one g...

Alan Paton

I see only one hope for our country, and that is when white men and black men, desiring neither power nor money, but desiring only the good for their country, come together to work for it.I have one g...

Tags: cry the beloved country

Indeed, mother, you are always our helper.For what else are we born?

Alan Paton

Indeed, mother, you are always our helper.For what else are we born?

Tags: cry the beloved country

Indeed, there is something in this valley, some spirit and some life, and much to talk about in the huts. Although nothing has come yet, something is here already.

Alan Paton

Indeed, there is something in this valley, some spirit and some life, and much to talk about in the huts. Although nothing has come yet, something is here already.

Tags: alan paton, cry the beloved country

They were your friends?Yes, they were my friends.And they will leave you to suffer alone?Now I see it.And until this, were they friends you could trust?I could trust them.I see what you mean. You mean...

Alan Paton

They were your friends?Yes, they were my friends.And they will leave you to suffer alone?Now I see it.And until this, were they friends you could trust?I could trust them.I see what you mean. You mean...

Tags: cry the beloved country, friends, friendship

Who indeed knows the secret of the earthly pilgrimage? Who knows for what we live, and struggle, and die? Who knows what keeps us living and struggling, while all things break about us? Who knows why...

Alan Paton

Who indeed knows the secret of the earthly pilgrimage? Who knows for what we live, and struggle, and die? Who knows what keeps us living and struggling, while all things break about us? Who knows why...

Tags: cry the beloved country, life
About Alan Paton

Alan Stewart Paton (11 January 1903 – 12 April 1988) was a South African writer and anti-apartheid activist. His works include the novels Cry, the Beloved Country (1948), Too Late the Phalarope (1953), and the short story The Waste Land.