Quotes About Compassion

we are all, in the private kingdom of our hearts, desperate for the company of a wise, true friend. Someone who isn't embarrassed by our emotions, or her own, who recognizes that life is short and that all we have to offer, in the end, is love.

What if you allowed your God to exist in he simple words of compassion others offer you? ... What if the greatest beauty of the day is the shaft of sunlight through our window? What if the worst thing happened and you rose anyway? What if you trusted in the human scale? What if you listened harder to the story of the man on the cross who found a way to endure his suffering more than to the one about the impossible magic of the Messiah? Would you see the miracle in that?

My mother's last word to me clanks inside me like an iron bell that someone beats at dinnertime: love, love, love, love, love.

the ultimate dwindling resource in the human arrangement isn't cheap oil or potable water or even common sense, but mercy.

What if I forgave myself? What if I forgave myself even though I'd done some things I shouldn't have? What if I was sorry, but if I could go back in time I wouldn't do anything different from what I'd done? What if yes was the right answer instead of no? What if all those things I shouldn't have done were what got me here? What if I was never redeemed? What if I already was?

What if you listened harder to the story of the man on the cross who found a way to endure his suffering than to the one about the impossible magic of the Messiah?

And in the meanwhile, cultivate an understanding of a bunch of the other things that the best, sanest people of the planet know: that life is long, that people both change and remain the same, that every last one of us will need to fuck up and be forgiven, that we're all just walking and walking and walking and trying to find our way, that all roads lead eventually to the mountaintop.

She was. She was imperfect. She made mistakes. But she was her best self more often than it's reasonable for any human to be.

Someone who isn't embarrassed by our emotions, or her own, who recognizes that life is short and that all we have to offer, in the end, is love.

But love doesn't make a mean drunk not a mean drunk or a narcissist not a narcissist or a jackass not a jackass.

The particularity of our problems can be made bearable only through the recognition of our universal humanity. We suffer uniquely, but we survive the same way.

most importantly love like its the only thing you know how at the end of the day all this means nothing this page where you're sitting your degree your job the money nothing even matters except love and human connection who you loved and how deeply you loved them how you touched the people around you and how much you gave them

My grief is tremendous but my love is bigger.

Work hard. Do good. Be incredible.

Grief is tremendous, but love is bigger. You are grieving because you loved truly. The beauty in that is greater than the bitterness of death. Allowing this into your consciousness will not keep you from suffering, but it will help you survive the next day.

Be about ten times more magnanimous than you believe yourself capable of being. Your life will be a hundred times better for it.

To be about ten times more magnanimous than you believe yourself capable of being. Your life will be a hundred times better for it.

Our minds are small, but our hearts are big.

You did things you didn't hope to do. You have not always been your best self. This means that you're like the rest of us.

life is short and that all we have to offer, in the end, is love.

You go on by doing the best you can. You go on by being generous. You go on by being true. You go on by offering comfort to others who can't go on. You go on by allowing the unbearable days to pass and by allowing the pleasure in other days. You go on by finding a channel for your love and another for your rage.

One of the worst things about losing my mother at the age I did was how very much there was to regret. Small things that stung now: all the times I'd scorned her kindness by rolling my eyes or physically recoiled in response to her touch;

compassion isn't about solutions. It's about giving all the love that you've got.

The truth was, in spite of all that, she'd been a spectacular mom. I knew it as I was growing up. I knew it in the days that she was dying. I knew it now. And I knew that was something. That it was a lot. I had plenty of friends who had moms who—no matter how long they lived—would never give them the all-encompassing love that my mother had given me.