Quotes About Sympathy

I have the greatest sympathy with the growth of the socialist party. I think they understand the evils that surround us and hammer them into people's minds better than we Liberals.

The mirror is my best friend because when I cry it never laughs.

like Ariel released from his tree prison, a beautiful human being leaps out of many a human prison at the touch of sympathy .

John does not know how much I really suffer. He knows there is no reason to suffer, and that satisfies him.

We'd have long conversations during which I'd weep and tell him everything and he would cry with me and try to make it all just a tiny bit more okay, but his words rang hollow. It was almost as if I couldn't hear them at all. What did he know about losing anything?

He was the first person I'd met who was doing essentially what I was doing, though he was hiking much farther. He didn't need me to explain what I was doing out here. He understood.

I learned then what I have learned in many other ways over the course of my life: that when we're in the presence of someone else's pain, the burden of not-doing is so much greater than the burden of doing. Doing lifts the burden. Even if it's a small thing. Like writing a letter.

The chief characteristics of the [liberal] attitude are human sympathy, a receptivity to change, and a scientific willingness to follow reason rather than faith.

losers, even if they do not have a brain,have a heart.

Except yourself I have never met the man for whom I felt that intimate sympathy (of intellect as well as soul) which is the sole basis of friendship.

In the worship of Bacchus, we have sacrificed too freely.... Why not consecrate ourselves to the queen of the Camelias, and revel in the warm stream of sympathy that flows from her altar? In the liquid amber within the ivory-porcelain, the initiated may touch the sweet reticence of Confucius...

I cannot pretend to feel impartial about the colours. I rejoice with the brilliant ones, and am genuinely sorry for the poor browns.

I'm holding a teardrop for a friend Until his heartache and misery end.

A boil is no big deal. On someone else's neck.

The more we care, the greater the pain, and the greater the need for understanding

Perhaps by mingling my sighs with yours I may make your sufferings less, for it is said that all sorrows divided are made lighter.

An empathic response that mirrors to children their upset feelings and expresses the parents' sympathy and understanding is effective in changing children's angry moods. The

For man is essentially alone, and one should pity him and love him and grieve with him.

This was the first time that he has ever looked into the labyrinth of the human soul. He was very far from understanding what he saw. But what was of more value, he felt and suffered with her. In years that were yet to come, he relived this memory in song, in the most beautiful song this world has known. For the understanding of the soul's defencelessness, of the conflict between the two poles, is not the source of the greatest song. The source of the greatest song is sympathy.

Scholars have said that if you want to know whether or not your heart is hard, then look at your eye. If it is dry and unmoved to tears, this is an indication of a hard heart. This is called jum?d al-?ayn or "an unmoved eye." A person who has sympathy and softness in the heart is said to have a moistened eye.

When an individual fear or apathy passes by the unfortunate, life is of no account.

Ghosts" are people, or part of people, anyway, and thus governed by emotional stimuli; they do not perform like trained circus animals, just to please a group of skeptics or sensation seekers. Then too, one should remember that an apparition is really a re-enactment of an earlier emotional experience, and rather a personal matter. A sympathetic visitor would encourage it; a hostile onlooker inhibit it.

Criticism in the universities, I'll have to admit, has entered a phase where I am totally out of sympathy with 95% of what goes on. It's Stalinism without Stalin.

Kehoe was eighteen when his mother, Mary, died from a long, progressive illness, described in contemporary reports as a "disease of the nervous system." Her obituary eulogized her as a "charitable and sympathetic neighbor as well as a generous and cheerful giver