Quotes About Compassion

How can I be envious of where you are—when I've been there myself?

Money is not a substitute for tenderness, and power is not a substitute for tenderness. I can tell you, as I'm sitting here dying, when you most need it, neither money nor power will give you the feeling you're looking for, no matter how much of them you have." I

Money is not a substitute for tenderness, and power is not a substitute for tenderness. I can tell you, as I'm sitting here dying, when you most need it, neither money nor power will give you the feeling you're looking for, no matter how much of them you have.

But hurting ourselves to inflict pain to others is just another cry to be loved.

you're trying to show off for people at the top, forget it. They will look down at you anyhow. And if you're trying to show off for people at the bottom, forget it. They will only envy you. Status will get you nowhere. Only an open heart will allow you to float equally between everyone.

Love each other or die.

and the anchor asked if my old professor had anything he wanted to say to the millions of people he had touched. Although he did not mean it this way, I couldn't help but think of a condemned man being asked for his final words. "Be compassionate," Morrie whispered. "And take responsibility for each other. If we only learned those lessons, this world would be so much better a place." He took a breath, then added his mantra: "Love each other or die.

The wrongs we do open doors to do right.

I watched him now, his hands working gingerly, as if he were learning to use them for the first time. He could not press down hard with a knife. His fingers shook. Each bite was a struggle; he chewed the food finely before swallowing.. The skin from his wrist to his knuckles was dotted with age spots, and it was loose, like skin hanging from a chicken soup bone.

You know what really gives you satisfaction?" What? "Offering others what you have to give.

In light of this, my visits with Morrie felt like a cleansing rinse of human kindness. We talked about life and we talked about love. We talked about one of Morrie's favourite subjects, compassion and why our society had such a shortage of it.

But it's hard to explain, Mitch. Now that I'm suffering, I feel closer to people who suffer than I ever did before. The other night, on TV, I saw people in Bosnia running across the street, getting fired upon, killed, innocent victims... and I just started to cry. I feel their anguish as if it were my own. I don't know any of these people. But--how can I put this?--I'm almost... drawn to them.

And it's so true. Without love, we are birds with broken wings.

Is this what comes at the end, I wondered? Maybe death is the great equaliser, the one big thing that can finally make strangers shed a tear for one another.

Love wins. Love always wins.

The problem, Mitch, is that we don't believe we are as much alike as we are. Whites and blacks. Catholics and Protestants, men and women. If we saw each other as more alike, we might be very eager to join in one big human family in this world, and to care about the family the way we care about our own.

Be compassionate," Morrie whispered. "And take responsibility for each other. If we only learned those lessons, this world would be so much better a place." He took a breath, then added his mantra: "Love each other or die.

death is the great equalizer, the one big thing that can finally make strangers shed a tear for one another.

I was astonished by his complete lack of self-pity. Morrie, who could no longer dance, swim, bathe, or walk; Morrie, who could no longer answer his own door, dry himself after a shower, or even roll over in bed. How could he be so accepting? I watched him struggle with a fork, picking at a piece of tomato, missing it the first two times - a pathetic scene, and yet I could not deny that sitting in his presence was almost magically serene, the same calm breeze that soothed me back in college.

Did you know, the old woman said now, standing beside the grown-up Annie, that a dog will go to a crying human before a smiling one? Dogs get sad when people around them get sad . They're created that way. It's called empathy. Humans have it, too. But it gets blocked by other things -- ego, self-pity, thinking your own pain must be tended to first. Dogs don't have those issues.

Have you ever known a man of faith? Did you run the other way? If so, stop running. Maybe sit for a minute. For a glass of ice water. For a plate of corn bread. You may find there is something beautiful to learn, and it doesn't bite you and it doesn't weaken you, it only proves a divine spark lies inside each of us, and that spark may one day save the world.

I asked Morrie if he felt sorry for himself. Sometimes, in the mornings, he said. That's when I mourn. I feel around my body, I move my fingers and my hands - whatever I can still move - and I mourn what I've lost. I mourn the slow, insidious way in which I'm dying. But then I stop mourning.

Dying, Morrie suddenly said, is only one thing to be sad over, Mitch. Living unhappily is something else. So many of the people who come to visit me are unhappy.

meaning into your life is to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning.