Quotes About Compassion

So compose yourself; do not exaggerate your misfortune. A priest whose hair has grown white in the exercise of his functions is not a boy; you will be understood by him to whom every passion has been confided for nearly fifty years now, and who weighs in his hands the ponderous heart of kings and princes. If he is stern under his stole, in the presence of your flowers he will be as tender as they are, and as indulgent as his Divine Master.

he began to weep on his own account. Observing this grief, the abbe dried his pupil's tears, bidding him observe that the good woman took her snuff most offensively, and was becoming so ugly and deaf and tedious that he ought to return thanks for her death.

Cada cual tiene su modo de amar; el mío, sin embargo, no hace mal a nadie; ¿por qué, entonces, la gente habrá de ocuparse de mí?

Nay, do not cry, papa," she said, kissing him.

Perhaps it is human nature to spare no torment when the victim accepts any suffering out of genuine humility, weakness or indifference.

You have less pity than the executioner

Someday you will find out that there is far more happiness in another's happiness than in your own.

Pensons à lui, ma mère, répondit Eugénie, et n'en parlons pas. Vous souffrez; vous avant tout. Tout c'était lui.

don't come to comfort you; I only bring you my heart to beat in sympathy with yours, and help you to bear with life. I come to bid you weep, for only with tears can you purchase the joy of meeting him again.

Women like to perform prodigies, break rocks, and soften natures which seem of iron.

The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness

for a woman knows the face of the man she loves like a sailor knows the open sea

Being charitable one day a year might make do-gooders like Jimmie feel all soft and gooey inside, but people needed to eat three hundred and sixty-five days a year, not only on December twenty-fifth.

With my mother, I felt helpless all the time. Sometimes I feel helpless as a mother, but I know it'll pass. And this time, there are things I can do to make it better. For example, Rose cries whenever I put her in the stroller, but once I start pushing the stroller, she's happy. I remind myself that crying is her way of expressing herself, because she can't speak, whereas my mom cried because she felt pain, and I didn't know how to make it stop.

It's hard to understand how we can harbor negative feelings toward someone we love when the two appear to sit at such competing ends of the spectrum. But negative emotion does, which is why even daughters of abusive mothers need to mourn the loss.

His own way to a sick man is what grass is to a sick dog.

We buried the little chipmunk in Greta's backyard and marked the place with a stone. I said a prayer over its grave. I don't know if there is a chipmunk heaven, or for that matter, even an animal heaven, but I sure hope there is. Better still, I'd like all animals to go to our heaven. It would make the place a lot more interesting than I usually picture it.

If you would have me weep, you must first of all feel grief yourself.

Your own safety is at stake when your neighbor's house is ablaze

If you wish me to weep, you yourselfMust first feel grief.

I am the inferior of any man whose rights I trample underfoot.

When a child can be brought to tears, and not from fear of punishment, but from repentance he needs no chastisement. When the tears begin to flow from the grief of their conduct you can be sure there is an angel nestling in their heart.

Be ashamed to die unless you have won some victory for humanity.

To pity distress is but human; to relieve it is Godlike.