Quotes About Sympathy

Sokka: My first girlfriend turned into the moon. Zuko: That's tough buddy.

India had previously entertained no sympathy for the Southern way of life, with its pervasive friendliness, its offhanded viciousness, its overwhelming lassitude.

The crowd were on Fathers side most of them anyways. Everyone loves a loser I thought and there was tears coming in my eyes and I couldn't stop them neither.

We keep wanting to save those who are forlorn in this world. It's a male habit.

And that's the case with all of James McMurtry's songs. He never presents these characters for us to judge, but only to sympathize with. He has a capacity for compassion with every sketch that he makes with a person that he is not.

Compassion is a mixed passion, composed of love and sorrow.

I'm sorry. I know you loved her. It was hard not to.

And without understanding, could each properly love the other?

Too often, we get attention and sympathy by being a victim. If we're invested in someone being our villain, we must love being the victim. We have to let go of both characters in the story.

I fall in love with characters when they're out of their element or are uncomfortable and you really feel for them in a knee-jerk sympathetic way.

Falling in love is the beginning of all wisdom, all sympathy, all compassion, all art, all religion; and in it's larger sense is the one thing in life worth doing.

I feel pity for him, and that is a poor sign of love.

A man imagines a happy marriage as a marriage of love; even if he makes fun of marriages that are without love, or feels sorry for lovers who are without marriage.

... accepting and feeling sympathy and love is not so healing as giving it.

What I mean by love ... is this. A sympathetic liking--excited by fancy, directed by judgment--and to which is joined also a most sincere desire of the good and happiness of its object.

Love is being understanding and compassionate.

[T]o love a specific person, and to identify with his or her struggles and joys as if they were your own, you have to surrender some of your self.

And in that moment, the wordless thing passed between us, the thing that wasn't quite love but was so close I could believe in it sometimes.

I'm sorry. I can love you. I can grieve for you, or with you. I can share your pain. But I cannot judge you.

She expected the class to laugh, but instead they listened in silent sympathy.

Ralph really felt sorry for the boy, hampered as he was by his youth and his mother.

Miss Binney was not like most grown-ups. Miss Binney understood.

Nobody understood. She wanted to behave herself. Except when banging her heels on the bedroom wall, she had always wanted to behave herself. Why couldn't people understand how she felt?

Mrs. Quimby looked amused, which Ramona found pleasant, not like bring laughed at.