Quotes About Humanity

I am demonized because I don't see party affiliation or nationality when I look at a person, I see that person's heart. If someone looks, dresses, acts, talks and votes like a Republican, then why do they deserve support just because he/she calls him/herself a Democrat?

What did an invisible God want from a bunch of frail, selfish people? The only thing Landon could figure was that He'd like for them to learn to love and help one another. Why else would they be living on such a difficult planet?

voler vivere e morire in mezzo agli uomini é segno di grave debolezza

Hij is zacht, goed, subliem, rechtvaardig. Maar wie herkent zich in die mengeling die ruikt als naar transcendentie verbannen rozenwater? Een wezen zonder valsheid mist diepgang en mysterie; het verbergt niets. Alleen onzuiverheid is een kenteken van realiteit.[...] Omdat hij overloopt van leven, heeft de Duivel geen altaar: de mens herkent zich te veel in hem om hem te aanbidden.

God doesn't create suffering Claire, we do. We make the world and then we break it.

Once your baby arrives, the world is no more the same than you are. Because from our very bodies we add to the collective human destiny. Our deepest urge is always toward life, to wholeness and well being.

I wanted perfection. But it turns out, here on earth, we don't get perfection; we get people.

he found himself asking was there any point in being alive without helping one another?

There are tears there but she is too proud to blink and let one fall. If she blinked, he would take her hand and take her away from this place. This, at least, is what he tells himself. It's what she once wanted but two people hardly ever want the same thing at any given point in life. It is sometimes the hardest part of being human.

It's the strangest thing about being human: to know so much, to communicate so much, and yet always to fall so drastically short of clarity, to be, in the end, so isolate and inadequate. Even when people try to say things, they say them poorly or obliquely, or they outright lie, sometimes because they're lying to you, but as often because they're lying to themselves.

It's the strangest thing about being human: to know so much, to communicate so much, and yet always to fall so drastically short of clarity, to be, in the end, so isolate and inadequate.

Claire: Once your baby arrives, the world is no more the same than you are. Because from our very bodies we add to the collective human destiny.

People are the world's strangest creature.

Because I wished for everyone to live, I did everything I could.

The man who fights for his fellow-man is a better man than the one who fights for himself.

There are a lot of myths which make the human race cruel and barbarous and unkind. Good and Evil, Sin and Crime, Free Will and the like delusions made to excuse God for damning men and to excuse men for crucifying each other.

Robert G. Ingersoll was a great man. a wonderful intellect, a great soul of matchless courage, one of the great men of the earth -- and yet we have no right to bow down to his memory simply because he was great. Great orators, great soldiers, great lawyers, often use their gifts for a most unholy cause. We meet to pay a tribute of love and respect to Robert G. Ingersoll because he used his matchless power for the good of man. {Darrow's eulogy for Ingersoll at his funeral}

The world of books is the most remarkable creation of man. Nothing else that he builds ever lasts. Monuments fall, nations perish, civilizations grow old and die out, and after an era of darkness new races build others. But in the world of books are volumes that have seen this happen again and again and yet live on, still young, still as fresh as the day they were written, still telling men's hearts of the hearts of men centuries dead.

The world of books is the most remarkable creation of man. Nothing else that he builds ever lasts. Monuments fall, nations perish, civilizations grow old and die out, and after an era new races build others. But in the world of books are volumes that have seen this happen again and again and yet live on, still young, still as fresh as the day they were written, still telling men's hearts of the heart of men centuries dead.

So then, the virgin birth is not proof of the deity of Jesus, but rather, evidence of the humanity of God.

I ask myself: is every story that has ever been written in this world, a story of suffering and affliction?

Meanwhile, the clouds are white and the sky is blue. Why is there so much God? At the expense of men.

La consuelo haciéndole entender que también yo padezco la vasta e informe melancolía de haber sido creado.

Who hasn't ever wondered: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?