Quotes About Sympathy

I found out it's not good to talk about my troubles. Eighty percent of the people who hear them don't care and the other 20 percent are glad you're having trouble.

You have to have sympathy for and an empathy with a character in order to play them.

If Red breaks that leg again," Howard said soberly, "it will cripple him for life." Alexander told him that maybe it was better to break a man's leg than his heart.

maybe it was better to break a man's leg than to break his heart.

Because whenever a woman kills her child, every other mother—at least, every one who's honest with herself—has a flash of sympathy. Not empathy. They don't want to have done it, cannot imagine doing it. But they know.

Because the difference between a friend and a real friend is that you and the real friend come from the same territory, of the same place deep inside you, and that means you see the world in the same kind of way. You know each other even before you do.

I feel an intense intimacy with those who have this loathing interest in me. Further than this, I know what they mean, I sympathize with them, I understand them. There should be a name (as poetic as love) for this relationship between loather and loathed it is of the closest and more full of passion than incest.

Oh, baby girl," he says with a sigh. "I am so, so sorry.

I'll miss him," she said softly. Ty nodded. "Me, too." For a moment they both stood, stroking Chester in silence. "Hey, cheer up," Ty said. Amy realized he was looking at her downcast face. "At least it means -" "That another horse can come and be helped," Amy finished Ty's sentence for him. She grinned as she saw the surprise on his face. "We were thinking the same thing." "Oh, no, I need help!" Ty said. He dodged as she tried to hit him again.

condolences; a few of them pat Hannah on the head, as if she's

All those years, as the only other person who understood their parents, he had absorbed her miseries offering silent sympathy or a squeeze on the shoulder or a wry smile.

Five years, a year, even six months earlier, Lydia would have found sympathy in her brother's eyes. I know. I know. Confirmation and consolation in a single blink. This time Nath, immersed in a library book, did not notice Lydia's clenched fingers, the sudden red that rimmed her eyes. Dreaming of his future, he no longer heard all the things she did not say.

Tutt'al più commuoversi sugli altri,mai su se stesso. To pity others perhaps, never to pity one's self. Be touched by others, don't be touched by yourself

Thank you for grieving with me. Your tears made me feel as if my own were worth shedding.

My pain may be the reason for somebody's laugh. But my laugh must never be the reason for somebody's pain.

Besides love and sympathy, animals exhibit other qualities connected with the social instincts which in us would be called moral.

As man advances in civilization, and small tribes are united into larger communities, the simplest reason would tell each individual that he ought to extend his social instincts and sympathies to all members of the same nation, though personally unknown to him. This point being once reached, there is only an artificial barrier to prevent his sympathies extending to the men of all nations and races.

The handle of the heart is the hand of another. (La poignée du cœur - Est la main de l'autre.)

We should weep for men at their birth, not at their death.

A silent look of affection and regard when all other eyes are turned coldly away--the consciousness that we possess the sympathy and affection of one being when all others have deserted us--is a hold, a stay, a comfort, in the deepest affliction, which no wealth could purchase, or power bestow.

"Are you in pain, dear mother?" "I think there's a pain somewhere in the room," said Mrs. Gradgrind, "but I couldn't positively say that I have got it."

Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never tries, and a touch that never hurts.

If I may ride with you, Citizen Evremonde, will you let me hold your hand? I am not afraid, but I am little and weak, and it will give me more courage." As the patient eyes were lifted to his face, he saw a sudden doubt in them, and then astonishment. He pressed the work-worn, hunger-worn young fingers, and touched his lips. "Are you dying for him?" she whispered. "And his wife and child. Hush! Yes." "Oh, you will let me hold your brave hand, stranger?" "Hush! Yes, my poor sister; to the last.

I have a heart to be stabbed in or shot in, I have no doubt, and, of course, if it ceased to beat, I would cease to be. But you know what I mean. I have no softness there, no—sympathy—sentiment—nonsense.