Quotes About Empathy

And looking up, she saw above the thin trees the first pulse of the full-throbbing star, and wanted to make her husband look at it; for the sight gave her such keen pleasure. But she stopped herself. He never looked at things. If he did, all he would say would be, Poor little world, with one of his sighs.

she felt herself everywhere; not "here, here, here"; and she tapped the back of the seat; but everywhere. She waved her hand, going up Shaftesbury Avenue. She was all that. So that to know her, or any one, one must seek out the people who completed them; even the places. Odd affinities she had with people she had never spoken to, some woman in the street, some man behind a counter—even trees, or barns.

How curiously one is changed by the addition, even at a distance, of a friend. How useful an office one's friends perform when they recall us. Yet how painful to be recalled, to be mitigated, to have one's self adulterated, mixed-up, become part of another.

Once you stumble... human nature is on you.

A imensa autopiedade dele, sua exigência de compaixão jorrava e se espraiava em poças aos pés dela, e a única coisa que ela fazia, miserável pecadora que era, era arrepanhar um pouco a saia em volta dos tornozelos para não se molhar.

Entonces cómo va a saber una esto o aquello de los demás, se había preguntado, si la gente se aísla de un modo tan hermético?

To talk of 'prizing her open' as if she were an oyster, to use any but the finest and subtlest and most pliable tools upon her was impious and absurd.

She seemed determined to be human also; to like people, even though they were stupid.

Gli occhi degli altri sono le nostre prigioni, i loro pensieri le nostre gabbie.

my country is the world

Las personas a quienes más apreciamos no nos convienen cuando estamos enfermos.

and yet Nancy felt, it might be true that she minded losing her brooch, but she wasn't crying only for that. She was crying for something else. We might all sit down and cry, she felt. But she did not know what for.

Ä°nsan a??kken baÅŸkalar?n?n kay?ts?zl??? çok garibine gider.(s.40)

He's read nothing, thought nothing, felt nothing, he could hear her saying in that empathic voice which carried so much farther than she knew.

she] might have been a shell, and his words water rubbing against her ears, as water rubs a shell on the edge of a rock.

They had always this queer power of communicating without words. She

With twice his wits, she had to see things through his eyes—one of the tragedies of married life. With a mind of her own, she must always be quoting Richard—as if one couldn't know to a tittle what Richard thought by reading the Morning Post of a morning!

That man, she thought, her anger rising in her, never gave; that man took.

though she herself was a woman, it was still a woman she loved; and if the consciousness of being of the same sex had any effect at all, it was to quicken and deepen those feelings which she had had as a man.

Pero, dijo Clarissa, sentada en el autobús que ascendía por Shaftesbury Avenue, ella se sentía en todas partes; no «aquí, aquí, aquí»; y golpeó el respaldo del asiento; sino en todas partes. Clarissa agitó la mano, mientras ascendían por Shaftesbury Avenue. Ella era todo aquello. De manera que, para conocer a Clarissa, o para conocer a cualquiera, uno debía buscar a la gente que lo completaba; incluso los lugares.

The weight, the pace, the stride of a man's mind are too unlike her own for her to lift anything substantial from him successfully. The ape is too distant to be sedulous.

quién va a exigir juicio crítico a un enfermo o sensatez al postrado en la cama?

How, then, she had asked herself, did one know one thing or another thing about people, sealed as they were? Only like a bee, drawn by some sweetness or sharpness in the air intangible to touch or taste, one haunted the dome-shaped hive, ranged the wastes of the air over the countries of the world alone, and then haunted the hives with their murmurs and their stirrings; the hives which were people.

He ran his mind over the things they had said, the random, unnecessary things which had eddied round and round and used up all the time, and drawn them so close together and flung them so far apart and left him in the end unsatisfied, ignorant still of what she felt and of what she was like. What was the use of talking, talking, merely talking?