Quotes About Empathy

It's a beautiful thought, to meet a writer only in her books.

Han gikk og gikk, men ikke noe hendte, skjønt det var fullt av folk på alle hold. Og knøttet møtte ingen som han kjente, for knøttet var et meget ensomt lite troll, og altfor sky og blyg til å si : Hei! Kan jeg få snakke litt med deg?

Sophia stood up and shouted, "Say this: say I hate everything that dies slow! Say I hate everything that won't let you help!

Of course you have to feel free. Naturally you must go away. I do understand that you have to be alone sometimes. (Moomintroll to Snufkin)

It looks as if neither of us will ever convince the other. But do we need to?" "No, the other person only needs to listen and understand." "I can accept that." - The Hothouse

Myötätunnostani huolimatta en kuitenkaan pystynyt syventymään hänen ongelmiinsa - niin, kaikesta huolimatta on muutamia harvoja aloja, joilla lahjakkuuteni ei ole sitä tasoa kuin voisi odottaa, ja yksi niistä on koneoppi.

Det var en som kom til mamma og sa: "Deres datter er usedvanlig, hun snakker aldri stygt om noen." Jeg husker det, jeg husker det helt tydelig. Men hvorfor? Stolte jeg på dem? Eller var det bare et spørsmål om å tilgi?

You can believe what you like, but you must learn to be tolerant." "What does that mean?" asked the child sullenly. "That means respecting other people's convictions." What are convictions?" Sophia screamed and stamped her foot. "Letting others believe what they want to believe!" her grandmother shouted back. (p.38)

Even when he didn't know me, Lonnie was there to catch my falls.

If the people would bother to learn about the cultures instead of condemning them, they might not be afraid.

I am sorry, my dear. It was never my intention to be cruel." "I am not your 'dear,' so please refrain from calling me such," Hannah said, narrowing her eyes.

Seeing his eyes glisten with unshed tears, Hannah reached out to take hold of his hand. She felt her breath catch as he tightened his fingers over hers.

William needs a good woman in his life. The war was hard on him. He had no heart for it.

have no idea what it's about." She squeezed his hand

She didn't want to. She loved you. She loves you now. Yes, she hurt you and she made a terrible mistake in leaving you. But your father made mistakes, too, and you will, as well. We all make bad choices - decisions that would better be left to rot in the bottom of the barrel. But we can't undo them. We can only move forward.

I suppose my biggest frustration is that we as white people come into a culture and demand that the natives do things our way. I want to see their lives bettered as much as anyone, but who says we have somehow arrived at the perfect way to live? Especially for specific areas of the world?

Often times we reach out to people who would rather not be reached. We love people who reject our love and would just as soon spit in our face, but Jesus asks us to go on loving--go on reaching. It's easy to love someone when they love us, but so much harder to love when we are treated poorly by that person.

We all have scars. Some are visible and others aren't, but they are there all the same. Your scar makes you no less worthy.

So often people think of sharing God's love by preaching or reading the Bible to someone. More often, we can show people Jesus by demonstrating kindness and love in practical ways.

Mercy is always better than pride.

Oh, darling, just look at your poor face. You're going to need an herb poultice and a fresh piece of steak for that wound." "And here I was looking forward to eating dinner, not wearing it on my face.

I do think I'll put in a good word about Gillian with some of the ladies I know here in Town. She shouldn't be made to suffer just because you and I do not get along with her parents." Gabriel smiled. "You have far too tender a heart, my heart. Forever trying to help others. If only Gillian knew she has a new champion in you." "I shall know." Esme moved into his arms as the music began. "Sometimes just knowing is more than enough.

We say very little, for we do not need to. We are silent together, each in her own world, knowing the other is just at her back.

A] couple I had known - who were old friends - asked me what I was going to work on next. I told them I wanted to write a near future book about AIDS concentration camps. They were vehement in their response: they thought it was a terrible idea. Their words both shocked and saddened me. "Do you really want to write a book about homosexuals?" they asked me. "Won't people who read your work be influenced toward sin?" I notice that I don't hear from them much lately.