Quotes About Sympathy

That a child obtains what he asks from his father looks so perfectly natural, we almost count it the father's duty to give. But with a friend, it is as if the kindness is more free, dependent not on nature but on sympathy and character....But then we must be living as His friends. I am still a child even when a wanderer, but friendship depends upon the conduct.

Around the world his pity flies, its wingspan as wide as an albatross's.

If only he could learn to lie so compassionately.

But he can no more feel sorry for Swift—

It is not suffering that is precious, but the concentric pearlescence with which we contain it. The raw grit of anguish will never be in short supply. There is enough of it in the happiest life to serve these instructive purposes, and there always will be. We are more sympathetic to Holocaust survivors than to malcontent children of privilege, but we all have our darkness, and the trick is making something exalted of it.

Take a look at this." "Those poor little ants," says Jill.

Mattie felt sympathy and judgement growing together. They didn't cancel each other out.

Ooh-eee-ooh," wailed Nicky helpfully

Mm-hm," Dawn said. "Um, I'm sorry." "Yeah. Right." I'm sorry, too, Mary Anne was what I was sort of hoping to hear.

with them. Which is more than I can say about

There is a kind of magnetism in goodness. Bad people will indeed find out bad people, and confederate with them, in order to keep one another in countenance; but they are bound together by a rope of sand; while trust, confidence, love, sympathy, and a reciprocation of beneficent actions, twist a cord which ties good men to good men, and cannot be easily broken.

Unhappy, indeed, must the woman be, who has drawn upon her the helpless pity of the man she loves!

Sympathy constitutes friendship; but in love there is a sort of antipathy, or opposing passion. Each strives to be the other, and both together make up one whole.

because in point of fact we would have come flying if we had known remotely how much he was suffering.

my intention that people will feel like throttling her

Aria: I went to Hollis. Because I was looking for...you know. Her. She was teaching an art class, so I ran inside, grabbed a paintbrush, and painted a scarlet A across her chest. You know, like that woman in The Scarlet Letter? It was awesome. She didn't know what hit her. And then I said, 'Now everyone will know what you've done'. Ella: Do you realize that Hester Prynne is supposed to be a sympathetic character?

Try a little tenderness ...

but you could also look at it the other way. Like you're saying no matter how bad things are for you, I can still relate.

So this had been all I wanted, a boy who understood about I felt.

If there was a way to recognize something you'd never seen but still knew by heart, I felt it as I looked at his face. Finally, someone understood.

It felt so weird, to be on the other side, where you were the one expected to offer condolences, not receive them. I wanted my sorry to sound genuine, because it was. That was the hard thing about grief, and the grieving. They spoke another language, and the words we knew always fell short of what we wanted to say.

When people first heard this, or saw me and remembered it, they always made that face. The one with the sad look, accompanied by the cock of the head to the side and the softening of the chin—oh my goodness, you poor thing. While it was usually well intentioned, to me it was just a reaction of muscles and tendons that meant nothing. Nothing at all. I hated that face. I saw it everywhere.

It was bad to be embarrassed, hard to be ashamed. But pitied? That was the worst of all.

It was easier to just be mad at my mom; sympathy and empathy are complicated things.