Quotes About Humanity

War is brutal. Civilians just suffer through it

Martha shut her eyes. She crossed her arms at her chest as if suddenly cold and said she was glad he hadn't tried it. She didn't understand how men could do those things. What things? he asked, and Martha said, The things men do. Then he nodded. It began to form. Oh, he said, those things.

When the boy hopped away, Azar clucked his tongue and said, 'War's a bitch.' He shook his head sadly. 'One leg, for Crissake. Some poor fucker ran out of ammo.

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle.

Our God was made by men, sculptured by savages who did the best they could. They made our God somewhat like themselves, and gave to him their passions, their ideas of right and wrong.

what is the lesson of history, if not that we owe each other more bread, more friendship, fewer lies, less cruelty.

It's the pointless things that give your life meaning. Friendship, Compassion, Art, Love. All of them are pointless. But, they're what keeps life from being meaningless.

To live you gotta be hard, I know that. But nobody wants to be a deadset cunt. That's just not fucking decent.

People are fools, not monsters

Is it the war that's done it to you? It's all war, she said. What is? I don't know. Everythin. Raisin a family, keepin yer head above water. Life. War is our natural state.

Somewhere a bicycle bell rings. Somewhere else there's a war on. Somewhere else people turn to shadows and powder in an instant and the streets turn to funnels and light the sky with their burning. Somewhere a war is over.

What whites have rarely had to think about—because being the dominant group, we are so used to having our will done, with a little effort at least—is that maybe the point is not victory, however much we all wish to see justice attained and injustice routed. Maybe our redemption comes from the struggle itself. Maybe it is in the effort, the striving for equality and freedom that we become human.

After all, how do you give a crash course in hatred to a boy who has only known love?

only one deaf God, who cannot see, remains—claiming all of creation as His own. If people would invest one hundredth of their devotion to this God in the living brothers and sisters amongst whom they stand, we might have a chance of surviving one another. As it is...

The dead by the road, or on it, testify to the presence of man. Their little gestures of pain—paws, wings and tails—are the saddest, the loneliest, most forlorn postures of the dead I can imagine. When we have stopped killing animals as though they were so much refuse, we will stop killing one another. But the highways show our indifference to death, so long as it is someone else's. It is an attitude of the human mind I do not grasp. ? Timothy Findley

Ha nem tudjuk kifejezni gondolatainkat és érzéseinket, akkor emberi mivoltunkat sem tudjuk egészében megélni. Ha nem hallhatjuk és láthatjuk embertársaink érzéseit és gondolatait, akkor soha nem fogjuk megérteni, mit jelent másvalakinek lenni.

We already have the means to travel among the stars. But these technologies are locked up in black projects and it would take an Act of God to ever get them out to benefit humanity. Anything you can imagine, we already know how to do.

Whatever the threat posed by certain alien species, I believe we have much more to fear from our own kind. I, for one, would welcome an official disclosure to the effect that we share this planet with denizens of other planets. It might be just the sort of shock we need.

of us were moved by the deep morality and sincere humanity on the part of the aliens. These were people who simply could not imagine doing any evil to anyone, people who liked eating well, drinking, even smoking, who enjoyed playing the violin [in one case] and tennis, and driving luxurious cars and executive airplanes (in the 1970s, when very few people in Italy could own a personal plane).…

In You're Looking Very Well: The Surprising Nature of Getting Old (Faber, 2010), author Lewis Wolpert states his belief that one day human beings may have a lifespan of six hundred years.

We are all burnt by ultraviolet rays. We all contain water in about the same ratio as Earth does, and salt water in the same ratio that the oceans do. We are poems about the hyperobject Earth.

Perhaps indifference itself is pointing to a way to care for humans and nonhumans in a less violent way- simply allowing them to exist, like pieces of paper in your hand, like a story you might appreciate- or not- for no reason.

My cause, first, midst, last, and always," he wrote, "was and is that of the black man; not because he is black, but because he is a man.

To err is human. To kill is evil.