Quotes About Empathy

Wenn man so viele Tote gesehen hat, kann man so viel Schmerz um einen einzigen nicht mehr recht begreifen.

Por qué no nos dicen continuamente que vosotros sois unos pobres infelices como nosotros, que vuestras madres viven en la misma angustia que las nuestras y que todos tenemos el mismo miedo a la muerte, el mismo agonizar y los mismos dolores? ¡Perdóname, camarada! ¿Cómo podías ser mi enemigo? Si tiráramos estas armas y este uniforme, tú podrías ser mi hermano, al igual que Kat y Albert.

Why doesn't she stop worrying? Kemmerich will stay dead whether she knows about it or not. When a man has seen so many dead he cannot understand any longer why there should be so much anguish over a single individual.

We all feed on one another. Such occasional little sparks of kindliness—that's something one shouldn't allow to be taken away. It strengthens one for a difficult life.

Nie jeste?my ju? beztroscy; jeste?my straszliwie oboj?tni.

Tikai p?c piln?gas izš?iršan?s rodas patiesa interese par visu, kas attiecas uz otru cilv?ku. Tas ir viens no m?las paradoksiem.

The youngster will hardly survive the carrying, and at the most he will only last a few days. What he has gone through so far is nothing to what he's in for till he dies. Now he is numb and feels nothing. In an hour he will become one screaming bundle of intolerable pain. Every day that he can live will be a howling torture. And to whom does it matter whether he has them or not—— I nod. "Yes, Kat, we ought to put him out of his misery.

eIf we could only see the animals we should be able to endure it better. Müller has a pair of glasses. We see a dark group, bearers with stretchers, and larger black clumps moving about. Those are the wounded horses. But not all of them. Some gallop away in the distance, fall down, and then run on farther. The belly of one is ripped open, the guts trail out. He becomes tangled in them and falls, then he stands up again.

If we could only see the animals we should be able to endure it better. Müller has a pair of glasses. We see a dark group, bearers with stretchers, and larger black clumps moving about. Those are the wounded horses. But not all of them. Some gallop away in the distance, fall down, and then run on farther. The belly of one is ripped open, the guts trail out. He becomes tangled in them and falls, then he stands up again.

Usamljenost traži saputnika i ne pita ko je on. Ko to ne zna, taj nikad nije bio usamljen, samo sam.

Savo sumanymais žmogus visada yra didis. Tik ne j? ?vykdymu. Tuo jis ir yra žmogus.

I see their dark forms, their beards move in the wind. I know nothing of them except that they are prisoners; and that is exactly what troubles me. Their life is obscure and guiltless;—if I could know more of them, what their names are, how they live, what they are waiting for, what their burdens are, then my emotion would have an object and might become sympathy.

This is the first time I have killed with my hands, whom I can see close at hand, whose death is my doing. Kat and Kropp and Müller have experienced it already, when they have hit someone; it happens to many, in hand-to-hand fighting especially— But every gasp lays my heart bare. This dying man has time with him, he has an invisible dagger with which he stabs me: Time and my thoughts.

Selles peitubki maailma häda, et me ise ei tunne, mida me korda saadame.

Kad cilv?ks ir pieaudzis? [..] Kad vair?k dom? par sevi nek? par citiem.

Dugo traje dok ?ovek ne prestane da se trza, ma to bilo i mehani?ki, kao ono žablja noga i galvanska struja. Tek kad se potpuno rastane, po?inje stvarno da se zanima za ono što se ti?e drugih. Jedan paradoks ljubavi.

The cries continued, it is not men, they could not cry so terribly. 'Wounded horses', says Kat. It is is unendurable, it is the moaning of the world, it is the martyred creation, wild with anguish, filled with terror and groaning.

Laikam gan katrs k?dam bija labs cilv?ks. Un k?dam tieši pret?ji.

?udna stvar'', mislim, ''videli smo toliko mrtvaca u ratu, i znamo da nas je dva miliona beskorisno palo - zašto smo onda tako uzbu?eni zbog jednog jedinog, a dva miliona smo ve? skoro zaboravili?'' No to je valjda zato što je pojedinac uvek smrt - a dva miliona uvek samo statistika.

Ich bin nicht mehr ein zitterndes Stück Dasein allein im Dunkel - ich gehöre zu ihnen und sie zu mir, wir haben alle die gleiche Angst und das gleiche Leben, wir sind verbunden auf eine einfache und schwere Art. Ich möchte mein Gesicht in sie hineindrücken, in die Stimmen, diese paar Worte, die mich gerettet haben und die mir beistehen werden.

Leur existence est anonyme et sans culpabilité; si j'en savais davantage sur leur compte, c'est-à-dire comment ils s'appellent, comment ils vivent, ce qu'ils attendent, ce qui les oppresse, mon émotion aurait un but concret et pourrait devenir de la compassion. Mais je n'éprouve ici, derrière eux, que la douleur de la créature, l'épouvantable mélancolie de l'existence et l'absence de pitié qui caractérisent les hommes.

509 sat down with his back to the barrack wall. It had still kept some warmth from the sun. Bucher came and sat down beside him. Strange, he said. Sometimes hundreds die and one doesn't feel anything, and then a single man dies, one who doesn't even concern us much—and it seems as though it were a thousand. 509 nodded. Imagination cannot count. And feeling does not grow stronger through numbers. It can never count beyond one. One—but that's enough if one feels it.

The whole world ought to pass by this bed and say: "That is Franz Kemmerich, nineteen and a half years old, he doesn't want to die. Let him not die!

bet t?ds jau cilv?ks ir - ?sti nov?rt?t vi?š prot tikai to, k? vi?am nav.