Quotes About Empathy

I'm just trying to use my happiness and motivation to rub off on other people around me.

There are people who do everything for a calculative political motive. My only motive is a human motive.

Assuming ill motives almost instantly cuts us off from truly understanding why someone does and believes as they do.

We have a motto at Naropa: 'Keep the world safe for poetry.' It's humorous but has some real bite to it. If the world is safe for poetry, it can be safe for many other things.

When people are presented with the alternatives of hating themselves for their failure or hating others for their success, they seldom choose to hate themselves. More

Liberals take positions that make them look good and feel good — and show very little interest in the actual consequences for others, even when liberal policies are leaving havoc in their wake.

Ak, mano siela... B?k pasiruošusi išklausyti t?, kuris moka paklausti.

He who does not want to understand the Other has no right to say that what the Other does or says makes no sense.

We cannot institutionalize helping the victims of personal disasters.

he knew he would always be the sad one: caged in that little round of skull, imprisoned in that beating and most secret heart, his life must always walk down lonely passages.  Lost.  He understood that men were forever strangers to one another, that no one ever comes really to know any one

Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone?

But it was many years before he could understand that that sensitive and feminine person, bound to him by the secret and terrible bonds of his own dishonor, had in him nothing perverse, nothing unnatural, nothing degenerate. He was as much like a woman as a man. That was all. There is no place among the Boy Scouts for the androgyne—it must go to Parnassus.

And as they sat there more quietly now, swarming pity rose in them—not for themselves, but for each other, and for the waste, the confusion, the groping accident of life.

He understood that men were forever strangers to one another, that no one ever comes really to know anyone, that imprisoned in the dark womb of our mother, we come to life without having seen her face, that we are given to her arms a stranger, and that, caught in that insoluble prison of being, we escape it never, no matter what arms may clasp us, what mouth may kiss us, what heart may warm us. Never, never, never, never, never.

She seized his hand almost gratefully and laid her white face, still twisted with her grief, against his shoulder. It was the gesture of a child: a gesture that asked for love, pity, and tenderness. It tore up great roots in him, bloodily.

Who hears the fishes when they cry?

What we should lament is not the loss of houses or of land, but the loss of men's lives. Men come first; the rest is the fruit of their labour.

If you can't laugh at yourself, who can you laugh at?

There are worse words than cuss-words, there are words that hurt.

What in me demanded that goodness in her? And what was the cost, the cost to her of such goodness?

It has never yet been a world right for love, for those we love, for ourselves, for flowered human life.

successful selling is about building and maintaining trust and respect in a sales relationship.

I had learned at last to not project my darkness onto those around me;

I have heard women complain about men holding doors for them,, as if it is inherently offensive and implies that they are weak. ... I would hold a door for anyone. ... It has to do with noticing our fellow human beings and saying, I recognize that you're on this planet, and I don't want a door hitting you in the face.