Quotes About Compassion

Just how common do such savageries have to be for a decent person to be unable to overlook them? If you knew that one in one thousand food animals suffered actions like those described above, would you continue to eat animals? One in one hundred? One in ten?

I pulled the book from him.     It was wet with tears running down the pages, as if the book itself were crying.     He hid his face in his hands.     Let me see you cry, I told him. I do not want to hurt you, he said by shaking his head left to right. It hurts me when you do not want to hurt me, I told him.     Let me see you cry.

Whether we're talking about fish species, pigs, or some other eaten animal, is such suffering the most important thing in the world? Obviously not. But that's not the question. Is it mort important than sushi, bacon, or chicken nuggets? That's the question.

Let's describe the reality: that piece of meat came from an animal who, at best—and it's precious few who get away with only this—was burned, mutilated, and killed for the sake of a few minutes of human pleasure. Does the pleasure justify the means?

We can't plead ignorance, only indifference. Those alive today are the generations that came to know better. We have the burden and the opportunity of living in the moment when the critique of factory farming broke into the popular consciousness. We are the ones of whom it will be fairly asked, What did you do when you learned the truth about eating animals?

THE PROBLEM OF EVIL: WHY UNCONDITIONALLY BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO UNCONDITIONALLY GOOD PEOPLE They never do.

As told by Kafka's close friend Max Brod: Suddenly he began to speak to the fish in their illuminated tanks. 'Now at least I can look at you in peace, I don't eat you anymore.' It was the time he turned strictly vegetarian.

You do not have to present not-truths to me, Sasha. I am not a child. (But I do. That is what you always fail to understand. I present not-truths to protect you. I exist in case you need to be protected.) I do not understand, I said. (I understand.) You do not? he said. (You do.) ... I am not a bad person, he said. I am a good person who has lived in a bad time. I know this, I said. (Even if you were a bad person, I would still know you are a good person.)

Everyone could know what everyone else felt, and we could be more careful with each other, because you'd never want to tell a person whose skin was purple that you're angry at her for being late, just like you would want to pat a pink person on the back and tell him, "Congratulations!

In its eyes I was sure I saw some form of understanding, but I didn't see forgiveness.

My family cares very much about caring for him, but not enough to actually care.

How could such a lonely person have been living so close to me my whole life? If I had known, I would have gone up to keep him company. Or I would have made some jewelry for him. Or told him hilarious jokes. Or given him a private tambourine concert.

Un giorno farai per me cose che hai in odio. E' questo che vuol dire essere una famiglia.

E allora quanta sofferenza è accettabile? È questa la base di tutto, ed è questo che ognuno di noi deve chiedersi. Quanta sofferenza sei disposto a tollerare per il tuo cibo?

Can the familiarity of the animals we have come to know as companions be a guide to us as we think about the animals we eat? Just how distant are fish (or cows, pigs, or chickens) from us in the scheme of life? Is it a chasm or a tree that defines the distance? Are nearness and distance even relevant? If we were to one day encounter a form of life more powerful and intelligent than our own, and it regarded us as we regard fish, what would be our argument against being eaten?

La gabbia standard per ovaiole concede a ogni gallina una superficie di 4,32 decimetri quadrati, grande come questo rettangolo. Quasi tutte quelle non allevate in gabbia hanno a disposizione all'incirca la stessa superficie

can't plead ignorance, only indifference. Those alive today are the generations that came to know better. We have the burden and the opportunity of living in the moment when the critique of factory farming broke into the popular consciousness. We are the ones of whom it will be fairly asked, What did you do when you learned the truth about eating animals?

Vegetarians are at best kindly but unrealistic. At worst they are delusional sentimentalists.

I like to see people reunited, maybe that's a silly thing, but what can I say, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can't tell fast enough, the eyes that can't take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone…

me, not only because it seemed true, but because it was the extension to food of everything my parents had taught me. We don't hurt family members. We don't hurt friends or strangers. We don't even hurt upholstered furniture. My not having thought to include animals in that list didn't make them the exceptions to it.

It's possible you can't afford to care, but it's certain you can't afford not to care.

That's what's at the bottom of all of this, and what each person has to ask himself. How much suffering will you tolerate for your food?

Rationally, factory farming is so obviously wrong, in so many ways. In all of my reading and conversations, I've yet to find a credible defense of it.

We are the ones of whom it will be fairly asked, What did you do when you learned the truth of about eating animals?