Quotes About Compassion

I was so afraid for you, I forgot to be afraid for your enemies. I should have remembered. Dear Captain.

We cannot protect anyone from being alive, Master Bosha. No matter how much we might wish to.

Of course, compared to Serg, Tien wasn't much worse than foolish and venal. But it was hard to watch. No nine-year-old should have to deal with something this vile, this close to his heart. What will it make him?" "Eventually . . . ten," the Count said. "You do what you have to do. You grow or go under. You have to believe he will grow.

And right or wrong, what I also saw was that you made an enemy, and left him alive behind you. Great charity. Bad tactics.

Well, I don't hate him. Can't say as I worship him, either." She paused a long time, and looked up to meet her mother's eyes square on. "But when he's cut, I bleed.

Any man can be kind when he is comfortable. I'd always thought kindness a trivial virtue, therefore. But when we were hungry, thirsty, sick, frightened, with our deaths shouting at us, in the heart of horror, you were still as unfailingly courteous as a gentleman at his ease before his own hearth." "Events may be horrible or inescapable. Men have always a choice—if not whether, then how, they may endure.

Beloved, god-touched, great-souled… a saint, even?  The true sort, who moved through the world as silently as fishes, unnoticed by carnal eyes that focused only on outward domination and display.  Never on a small woman in a small town, being kind.  Soul by soul. And

Death is not a performance to rate ourselves upon, or berate ourselves upon either.

My mother was a real soldier, too. And I don't think she ever failed to feel another's pain. Not even her enemy's.

Well, I don't hate him. Can't say I worship him, either. She paused a long time, and looked up to meet her mother's eyes square on. But when he's cut, I bleed.

You must learn to give, from sufficiency, not only take, from neediness.

The gods have no hands but ours, they say." He held up his fingers and wiggled them.

it indicates a deep confusion of thinking to mistake one's own discomfort for a benefit to another.

The gods have no hands but ours, they say.

Instead, they'd smile and speak softly, as though I were going to be all right, as though I weren't wearing one navy and one black loafer. As though I weren't driving down the street with my purse on the roof of the car or leaving the oven on preheat all night.

Maybe she needs me to be her basket case.

You constantly try to be optimistic when someone's sick, to look on the bright side, even if the bright side is only their ability to swallow a spoonful of applesauce or walk to the bathroom.

He couldn't even find the will to yell at her now. A real man didn't yell at those who weren't exactly sane themselves, he told himself.

Yes, he would be gone, but she knew now what it meant to love. She might not know what it meant to be loved, but loving was almost as good.

She said we can't save everyone, but we can damned sure as hell fight to save those we love. ... She taught me that we can only do our best. You've done your best. ...not beat yourself up because you missed something or someone. It makes you weak.

If he was hurt, it would be her fault. And it wasn't fair, she thought with an edge of self-pity. If anyone got to hurt him, it should be her. Not strangers that didn't know him.

Sir. I could use a crutch." His knees gave way, but the captain was there, his arms going around the taller man's bony body, holding him to him as he shook with silent sobs. "I have you, son," he whispered. "I'll be your crutch.

I love forms beyond my own, and regret the borders between us

This is the most enormous extension of vision of which life is capable: the projection of itself into other lives. This is the lonely, magnificent power of humanity. It is . . . the supreme epitome of the reaching out.