Quotes About Empathy

The better I get to know men, the more I find myself loving dogs.

A closed book makes a page; Open heart makes a thousand faces. (Un livre fermé fait une page; Coeur ouvert, mille visages)

Let's salute our enemies. That makes at least one happy. (Saluons nos ennemis. - Ca fait au moins un heureux.)

Love is winning the war without starting the war. (L'amour, c'est gagner la guerre sans commencer la guerre)

People say they are alone. But at who do they say that ? (Les gens disent qu'ils sont seuls. Mais à qui le disent-ils ?)

The blind also cry.

The blind also cry. (Les aveugles aussi pleurent)

The handle of the heart is the hand of another. (La poignée du cœur - Est la main de l'autre.)

Every time you do a good deed you shine the light a little farther into the dark. And the thing is, when you're gone that light is going to keep shining on, pushing the shadows back.

I want to touch the heart of the world and make it smile.

To become truly great, one has to stand with people, not above them.

We should weep for men at their birth, not at their death.

False happiness renders men stern and proud, and that happiness is never communicated. True happiness renders them kind and sensible, and that happiness is always shared.

There are people in the world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread.

Never close your lips to those whom you have opened your heart.

A silent look of affection and regard when all other eyes are turned coldly away--the consciousness that we possess the sympathy and affection of one being when all others have deserted us--is a hold, a stay, a comfort, in the deepest affliction, which no wealth could purchase, or power bestow.

Have a heart that never hardens, a temper that never tires, a touch that never hurts.

"Are you in pain, dear mother?" "I think there's a pain somewhere in the room," said Mrs. Gradgrind, "but I couldn't positively say that I have got it."

Never… be mean in anything; never be false; never be cruel.

"Do not repine, my friends," said Mr. Pecksniff, tenderly. "Do not weep for me. It is chronic."

I pity his ignorance and despise him.

That sort of half sigh, which, accompanied by two or three slight nods of the head, is pity's small change in general society.

Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never tries, and a touch that never hurts.

Never close your lips to those whom you have already opened your heart.