Quotes About Empathy

You can't save people, you can only love them.

You know, Lillian, someday I will sit down and write a little dictionary for you, a little Chinese dictionary. In it I will put down all the interpretations of what is said to you, the right interpretation, that is: the one that is not meant to injure, not meant to humiliate or accuse or doubt. And whenever something is said to you, you will look in my little dictionary to make sure, before you get desperate, that you have understood what is said to you.

Djuna concerned only with the longitude, and latitude and altitude of human beings in relation to each other.

This openness, which is closed again as soon as we face a partial relationship, the one who understands only one part of us, is the miraculous openess which takes place in whole love.

You can only see in others what your nature allows you to see. The range of your vision depends on the extent of the personal development. The personal, if it is deep enough, becomes universal, mythical, symbolic; I never generalize, intellectualize. I see, I hear, I feel. These are my primitive instruments of discovery.

Patients weep when they discover they are their own victimizers and not the victim of others. They weep when they discover they are responsible for their own suffering.

What is the greatest need of human beings? What is it they seek from me always? Intimacy. I listen with all my being, I am completely interested. I seek momentarily a full communion of eyes, feelings, thoughts.

Because I am a woman who understands, I am asked to understand everything, to accept everything.

Was it not an act of love to impersonate the loved one?

Compassion is the only key I ever found which fits everyone.

We are cruel when someone refuses to play the role in which we have cast him. We judge a person only according to his relationship towards us.

For our anxiety is the one thing we cannot place on the shoulders of others, it suffocates them.

What unites us universally is our emotions, our feelings in the face of experience, and not necessarily the actual experiences themselves.

It shows that a woman is not really a critic but a penetrator. She does not judge, she understands.

We write to lure and enchant and console others. We write to serenade our lovers. We write to taste life twice, in the moment, and in retrospection... We write to be able to transcend our life, to reach beyond it... We write to expand our world when we feel strangled, or constricted, or lonely.

Tu te îndr?gosteÈ™ti de minÈ›ile oamenilor.

I know my defects. I don't need you to take that stand-offish and unsympathetic tone. I get enough of that from the men who can't bully me into loving them, or obeying them

I care about everything. Emotionalism and sensibility are my quicksands.

I want the key, the key to the lies." "Passion and violence never opened a human being." "What opens human beings?" "Compassion.

In all of us there is human weakness. The friend is the one who goes out to strengthen this weakness, but not to attack it.

The idea of deserving love. And then watching love being given to people who did nothing to deserve it.

At night too, she puzzled at the mystery of her desperate need for kindness. As other girls prayed for handsomeness in a lover, or for wealth, or for power, or for poetry, she had prayed fervently: let him be kind.

Compassion for our parents is the true sign of maturity.

We love shadows of our hidden selves in others.