Quotes About Sympathy

It got worse still as time went on because people did not sympathize with you any more. They couldn't do enough for you at first, and that helped, and then they got bored with your troubles. But your troubles went on just the same and you had to bear them alone.

It was a strange thing, this feeling of empathy. He'd never experienced it before. He realized that what hurt this woman hurt him as well, that what made her bleed caused a hemorrhage of pain within his soul.

Grief lasts longer than sympathy, which is one of the tragedies of the grieving.

unnecessary discomfort is a form of martyrdom with which I have no sympathy.

People are sorry for brides who lose their husbands early, from some accident, or war. And they should be sorry, Mrs Palfrey thought. But the other thing is worse.

Why couldn't two unhappy people refresh each other on their way through this dusty business of life by a little talk—

I'm not crying because you're mean. I just can't imagine how incredibly painful it must be to be you.

If we cannot be clever, we can always be kind.

Be near me when my light is low.

He who is deserted by friends and relatives will often find help and sympathy from strangers.

Not every man with a heart is understanding, nor every man with an ear a listener, and nor every man with eyes able to see.

Agnes eyed the plums in the fruit bowl. They were hard as stone, merely decorative this early in the summer. But the color, purple and red, with a yellow pulse beneath the skin, made her mouth water. She felt a pang of sympathy for William Carlos Williams and his swiped plum.

I wish you didn't have to go through things I've been through.

because you already know what I mean. You read my mind.

I'm sickened by all the suffering I'm aware of.

do with each other?" Claudia smiled a knowing smile.

At the time, she'd been pregnant with her first child, a girl, which made her sympathize with me instead of the rich golden-haired boy with the angelic blue eyes and the premed major. I couldn't imagine anything worse, she had told me in the squad car, than losing a daughter like that.

No one can ever truly know what is in another man's heart.

He gave her his half-smile and the sad curve of it pierced her heart.

A good story was a form of communication, mind to mind, spirit to spirit. It sent life sparking from stranger to stranger, across space, decades and centuries. Human sympathy -- human attention -- had magic in it. Any real story fizzed with sympathy -- the writer's and reader's -- across time, over rows of typographical marks; those low boundary fences of the imagination, hurdled.

Any attempts at humor immediately after September 11th were deemed tasteless.

He looked as though I'd just run over his pet puppy (though no actual puppies were harmed in the formation of that metaphor).

She really wants to be my friend, I realize, and suddenly I feel very sorry for her. She doesn't know what a terrible thing it is she's asking for.

I have nothing but sympathy for the people who are forced to work with me. I'm better now at picking out those that want to play that game with me, and those that don't.