Quotes About Neighbor

The envious man grows lean at the success of his neighbor.

The impersonal hand of government can never replace the helping hand of a neighbor.

Hating your neighbour is almost as secure a psychological prop as loving him, especially if he differs from you in looks, language or habits.

Amore Pensi di amare il Creatore?Ama prima il tuo prossimo.

Todo buen cristiano ha de ser más pronto a salvar la proposición del prójimo que a condenarla; y, si no la puede salvar, inquira cómo la entiende; y, si mal la entiende, corríjale con amor; y, si no basta, busque todos los medios convenientes para que, bien entendiéndola, se salve.

And suddenly I realized that this too was a message, a last wordless communication among neighbors. For I, too, had a hiding place when things were bad. Jesus was this place, the Rock cleft for me. I pressed a finger to the tiny crevice.

Practices must be understood not simply as things we do to grow spiritually but rather as concrete ways in which our participation in God's mission is embodied in relation to our neighbor.

I feel that between my experience and my mother's, breast cancer is a little bit like someone who lives next door. I know what that person looks like and what their daily habits are.

If your neighbor is doing something wrong, let's call it. Let's say this person is doing wrong, and let's notify our law enforcement so we can actually vet that individual.

If you're in a garage band, it's about being better than the band in the next-door garage. But in the folk tradition, it's more a vibe of sharing.

I work in my attic, and the view is next door's chimney stack.

It occurred to me that I should do more for other people. I never once considered that there were people just down the road who cannot afford proper clothing, or care for their children.

Maybe curiosity did kill your cat. But it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on the neighbor's rottweiler just the same.

after I got the oven, an evil neighbor boy named Jeremy bullied me into letting him bake a frog in it. The house filled with a putrid stench, and Dad tossed the oven out onto the curb.

You told everyone when I locked myself out last week. I fielded calls on that one all day long." "Yes, well, that's because you were wearing only your towel, which you dropped when you climbed in the window, mooning Mr. Kletzy across the street. Word is he hadn't seen a naked woman in fifty years. He's now requesting that next time you lose your towel at high noon because the light is better.

There are a lot of things I can't control. I don't know what's going to happen in the next few days.I don't want what I am going to face, what kind of choices I am going to have to make. I can't predict it. I can't control it. It's too big.' I nodded at my shovel. 'But that, I can predict. I know that if I pick up that shovel and clear the snow from the walkways, it's going to make my neighbors safer and happier.' I glanced at him and shrugged. 'It's worthwhile to me.

Betty from down the street was one of those creatures who seemed to be operating under the notion that if she ever stopped talking, even for a second, she'd die.

How to make her run? No problem there. For a fearful shadow lies constantly over the residents of Uneasy Street. It casts itself through the ostensibly friendly handshake, or the gorgeously wrapped package. It beams out from the baby's carriage, the barber's chair, the beauty parlor. Every neighbor is suspect, every outsider, every period; even one's own husband or wife of sweetheart. There is no ease on Uneasy Street. The longer one's tenancy, the more untenable it becomes.

If you want to see the girl next door, go next door.

The remarkable thing is that we really love our neighbor as ourselves: we do unto others as we do unto ourselves. We hate others when we hate ourselves. We are tolerant toward others when we tolerate ourselves. We forgive others when we forgive ourselves. We are prone to sacrifice others when we are ready to sacrifice ourselves.

I am reminded of the advice of my neighbor. Never worry about your heart till it stops beating.

The loss which your neighbour does not know is no real loss.

O look, look in the mirror O look in your distress Life remains a blessing Although you cannot bless O stand, stand at the window As the tears scald and start You shall love your crooked neighbour With your crooked heart

Jonathan Swift made a soul for the gentlemen of this city by hating his neighbor as himself.