I'll love you dear, I'll love you Till China and Africa meet And the river jumps over the mountain And the salmon sing in the street, I'll love you till the ocean Is folded and hung up to dry And the seven starsgo squawking Like geese about the sky.
My map of Africa liesin Europe.Here lies Russia and here lies France, and we are in the middle. That is my map of Africa.
We carry with us the wonders we seek without us: there is all Africa and her prodigies in us.
We spent a lot of time talking about Africa, as we should. Africa is a nation that suffers from incredible disease.
What is Africa to me: Copper sun or scarlet sea, Jungle star or jungle track, Strong bronzed men, or regal black Women from whose loins I sprang When the birds of Eden sang?
One three centuries removed From the scenes his fathers loved, Spicy grove, cinnamon tree, What is Africa to me?
I am a woman and a woman of Africa. I am a daughter of Nigeria and if she is in shame, I shall stayand mourn with her in shame.
Poverty has a home in Africalike a quiet second skin.It may be the only place on earth where it is worn with unconscious dignity.
From Greenland's icy mountains, From India's coral strand, Where Afric's sunny fountains Roll down their coral strand.
The Europeans have scarcely visited any coast, but to gratify avarice, and extend corruption; to arrogate dominion without right, and practice cruelty without incentive But there isreason to hopethat the light of the gospel will at last illuminate the sands of Africa, and the deserts of America, though its progress cannot but be slow when it is so much obstructed by the lives of Christians.
West Africa today is just a quarry of paving stones for Hell, and those stones were cemented in place with
When a white man in Africa by accident looks into the eyes of a native and sees the human being (which it ishis chief preoccupation to avoid), his sense of guilt, which he denies, fumes up in resentment and he brings down the whip.
I'd the upbringing a nun would envy Until I was fifteen I was more familiar with Africa than my own body.
Au contraire de l'Europe en classique, le Ne gro-Africain ne se distingue pas de l'objet, il ne le tient pas a' distance, il ne le regarde pas, il ne l'analyse pas Il le touche, il le palpe, il le sent. Unliketheclassical European, the Black-Africandoesnot distinguish himself from an object. He does not hold it at a distance, he does not look at it, he does not examine it He touches it, he fingers it, he feels it.
I who have cursed The drunken officer of British rule, how choose Between this Africa and the English tongue I love? Betray them both, or give back what they give? How can I face such slaughter and be cool? How can I turn from Africa and live?
Webster's New World Dictionary of Quotations Copyright © 2010 by Chambers Harrap Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved. Published by Wiley, Hoboken, NJ. Used by arrangement with John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
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