“I think,' said Lyndall, 'that he is like a thorn-tree, which grows…

It is delightful to be a woman; but every man thanks the Lord devoutly that he isn’t one.

We have been so blinded by thinking and feeling that we have never seen the World.

And you do not need to. When you are seventeen this Boer-woman will go; you will have this farm and everything that is upon it for your own; but I,’ said Lyndall, ‘will have nothing. I must learn.’”

Very tenderly the old man looked at him. He saw not the bloated body nor the evil face of the man; but, as it were, under deep disguise and fleshly concealment, the form that long years of dreaming had made very real to him.

The full African moon poured down its light from the blue sky into the wide, lonely plain. The dry, sandy earth, with its coating of stunted ‘karroo’ bushes a few inches high, the low hills that skirted the plain, the milk-bushes with …

This dirty little world full of confusion, and the blue rag, stretched overhead for a sky, is so low we could touch it with our hand.