Quotes About Unity

Neighbours are given to us on the same basis as we are given our families. There is no element of choice involved - none at all.

To be free Is often to be lonely. He would unite The unequal moieties fractured By our own well-meaning sense of justice Would restore to the larger the wit and will The smaller possess but can only use For arid disputes, would give back to The son the mother's richness of feeling …

that weddings are far more than marriage ceremonies; we know that they are occasions for family stock-taking and catharsis; that

You can only wear one pair of shoes at a time," she said. "Rich people are like the rest of us—two feet, ten toes. We are all the same that way.

Reflections on human smallness have often prompted me to think that. What do divisions between people matter? What does it matter if somebody is English or Scottish or whatever?

The real art in going through life with dignity and with a modicum of happiness was to accept what you were, and, at the same time, to accept others—and to love them all equally. That was hard, and for some people it was impossible, but you had to try. We were all brothers and sisters, after all, and should embrace one another as such. That seemed so obvious, and yet there were people who refused to accept it, and made others unhappy because of their refusal.

Why should everybody embrace the herd instinct, which required one to regard one set of politicians as being always in the right while demonizing another set?

The human heart, you see, Mma Ramotswe, is pretty much the same wherever one goes.

What a sad reflection that was on the way we ordered our affairs, that anybody should feel that they were just something. Everybody was significant; everybody was as valuable as everybody else. If we stopped thinking that, then any attempt at morality would be built on sand.

We should love one another, she thought, not only because it was the right thing to do, but also because it was far easier than hating one another. People who hated often had to work quite hard at keeping their hatred warm.

that we must love one another, whatever our condition in life, canine or otherwise, and that this love is a matter of joy, a privilege, that we might think about, weep over, when the moment is right.

The ordinary people of Africa tended not to have room in their hearts for hatred. They were sometimes foolish, like people anywhere, but they did not bear grudges, as Mr Mandela had shown the world.

Alexander McCall Smith

to people who are unhappy inside themselves. There is room for everyone. Everyone should be able to find somewhere on this earth to sit down.

Every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less…" She thought: when will it come—that moment when that no longer resonates with people too tired of others and their demands, too exhausted to open their doors to those in need, too overwhelmed by the scale of humanity in all its billions to value individual human life.

They sang that song which distills all the suffering and the hope of Africa; that song which had inspired and comforted so many, "Nkosi Sikeleli Afrika," God Bless Africa, give her life, watch over her children.

You can't have a cohesive society without a shared culture.

But that's what the world is all about, Jamie. Stories. Stories explain everything, bring everything together.

That at least was a consolation: separation and loss were something that we all experienced; the pain was shared, and was perhaps easier for that.

I am a fortunate man, and if you are fortunate in this life, you should take pleasure in the good fortune of others. Because we must love one another – for all our faults. We must love one another whatever our station in life, and we must try to make the lives of others more bearable, if we are in a position to do so.

So it was in Botswana, almost everywhere; ties of kinship, no matter how attenuated by distance or time, linked one person to another, weaving across the country a human blanket of love and community. And in the fibres of that blanket there were threads of obligation that meant that one could not ignore the claims of others. Nobody should starve; nobody should feel that they were outsiders; nobody should be alone in their sadness.

Ulf sighed. Why could people not live together in harmony? Why did people think that berating and assaulting others should do anything but make everything worse for everybody?

Always and everywhere one vision, One customary, single mission, One customary, single grief. Not cooling distance's relief...

Man loves in order to live in another a life missing in himself, for perhaps love does love what it lacks: we want to be what we love, even if what we love wants us to be, when we love, what we are.