Quotes About Humanity

But there's so much to feel sorry for in the world. Can't waste too much on folk who act like pricks.

Ain't they people too, though?" muttered Beck, thinking of the face of that Union man lying dead in the shack yesterday. "Just like us?" Whirrun squinted across at him. "More than likely they are. But if you start thinking like that, well… you'll get no one killed at all.

People are far more stupid than that.

La gente prefiere creer que el mundo está lleno de maldad antes que de mala suerte, egoísmo y estupidez.

Ah yes! I had the chance to leave all this behind. Yet I chose to come back. Change is not a simple thing, eh, Sergeant? I entirely see and understand the pointlessness and waste of it all, yet I do it anyways. Does that make me worse or better than the man who does it thinking himself ennobled by a righteous cause? Or the man who does it for his own profit, without the slightest grain of thought for right or wrong? Or are we all the same?

Que sea el monstruo el que pronuncie la sentencia de muerte para que así los demás podamos seguir pensando que somos gente inocente

Once the killing starts, it rarely sticks to those who deserve it

People love to see death. It reminds them that however mean, however low, however horrible their lives become . . . at least they have one.' Glokta

In hard times, it's easy to become hard. But here was a man who always looked for the best in folk. Didn't always find it, but never gave up looking. Wasted no time polishing his own name. Singing his own songs. Didn't have to.

War?' 'It's when a fight gets so big almost no one comes out of it well.

La historia no es un relato de las batallas entre el bien y el mal, sino entre el bien de una persona y el de otra. El mal no es lo contrario del bien. Es como llamamos a la noción del bien que tiene otra persona cuando difiere de la nuestra.

We're none of us hard as we seem.

You want to paint this?' 'Future generations might never believe it happened.' She blew some yellow hair out of her face with a smoky breath and went back to sketching, charcoal hissing on paper. 'Then it might happen again.

The Great Leveller," Dogman whispered to himself, since he was in a thoughtful frame of mind. That's what the hillmen call him. Death, that is. He levels all differences. Named Men and nobodies, south or north. He catches everyone in the end, and he treats each man the same.

That thought, as the misery of others often can, made him feel just a little better.

All our differences hardly measure up to the values we all hold in common.

Y como los seres humanos también estamos hechos de partículas, estamos implícitamente conectados más allá del espacio y el tiempo. Lo que hacemos a los demás, nos lo hacemos a nosotros mismos.

What is truly interesting is not the fact that people have power, but how they use that power. Do they make their world better, stronger, gentler, more varied, more interesting, more humane?

But they weren't aliens, I had to remind myself — we were.

The language of sin was universal, the original Esperanto.

You know, we might've fucked up the planet, sucking out all the oil, melting the ice caps, allowing ska music to flourish, but we made Coca-Cola, so goddamn it, people weren't all bad.

So many have wept for Jesus on His cross. As if no one else has ever suffered as He suffered. As if millions have not shuffled to worse deaths, and died unremembered.

She came back from the eighties to save mankind. Martha Quinn is our only hope.

Someone probably a lot smarter than me said hell is other people. I say you're in hell when you don't give to someone who needs, because you can't bear to have less.