Quotes About Empathy

We all just get along. No matter what. Whether it suits our personal needs or not. Personal needs are a priveleged affectation.

Michelangelo's thumb moved across his wrist, giving Vincent a sympathetic shiver at the imagined texture of the skin.

He laid a hand on Ian's shoulder and squeezed; Ian gave him a wry sideways look.

She hadn't really done anything to me physically. This was just what a broken heart felt like.

How odd it is that a small, frail, temporary person like yourself should make me feel so clearly seen.

When you live with people for months on end, the relationships come to mean a lot to you. Moving from one such berth to another is not dissimilar from getting a divorce from one family and moving immediately in with the next.

Just because I don't care for the prowl myself doesn't mean I can't be a pretty good wingperson.

The pain in him might have been my own.

Kit bumped Matthew with his shoulder, the way, once upon a time, he might have nudged another friend.

Patty's mouth twisted; her expression said creepy kid, but Genie was too lonely to get up and leave, even if she knew Patty didn't want her there.

We need each other, and we need literature, and we need knowledge-and we need very much, to try to be accountable for our own feelings and live up to our best selves. That reality might seem subjective and foolish to Farweather, but it seems objective and rational to me.

God protect the halt and the lame," he muttered. "Also the purblind fools. And one Kit Marlowe, wherever he may be.

What did it hurt me to be honest with her? To be vulnerable?

While thou art looking out for the halt and the stupid, Lord, let me put in a word for a crippled bird as well.

Goddamn it, I am sick of watching people I like get killed. I like get killed. I am even sicker of getting people I like killed. It's not an acquired taste, let me tell you, every drink is bitter as the last. And they never get easier to swallow.

I've got to give Wainwright credit. She doesn't say I told you so. She doesn't even think it real loud, although the vertical line over her shapely little nose advertises restrained wrath. The funny thing is, I don't think she's angry with me.

Romantic feelings were so tiresome. And so inappropriate, when dealing with a patient, but human beings are programmed to get attached to those we caretake, or those who take care of us.

Hating people doesn't accomplish anything except poisoning yourself. I should turn it off. I should let it go. The thing was, first I had to want to let it go.

Much as I'd like to feed her her own superior smile sometimes, I still want the woman to like me. And I want her to like herself enough to keep doing what we need her for. Because, God knows, I haven't got it in me to try.

He just wanted to die and now he's in me, and Mallory won't let him die.

The expectation of an injury can hurt as much as the injury itself.

Somewhere, he found a smile that was positively sunny, and gave it to her.

She wanted to save Rien from any hurt, but there were some hurts you could rescue no one from.

He remembered hard hands turned generous, and shuddered.