Quotes About Empathy

I no longer think she's just being nice. She's being kind. Which is much more a sign of character than mere niceness. Kindness connects to who you are, while niceness connects to how you want to be seen.

I am jealous of anyone who can make other people care so much.

This is as much a part of my story as anything else. Friendship is love as much as any romance.

If you want to be loved, be a lovable. It's a good place to start.

I am starting to get tired of relying on words.

You can give words, but you can't take them. And when words are given and received, that is when they are shared. We remember what that was like. Words so real they were almost tangible. There are conversations you remember, for certain. But more than that, there is the sensation of conversation. You will remember that, even when the precise words begin to blur.

It's one of the secrets of strength: We're so much more likely to find it in the service of others than in service to ourselves.

The way you argued with me, you would have thought that we were debating the existence of God or whether or not we should move in together. These kinds of fights can never be won – even if you're the victor, you've hurt the other person, and there has to be some loss associated with that.

The world, right now, is only us.

This is the hard part about having best friends that I feel no attachment to -- I don't give them any benefit of the doubt. And being best friends is always about the benefit of the doubt.

If you start the day reading the obituaries, you live your day a little differently.

We love and we feel and we try and we hope.

These kinds of fights can never be won - even if you're the victor, you've hurt the other person, and there has to be some loss associated with that.

Why is it so much easier to talk to a stranger? why do we feel we need to disconnect in order to connect? If I wrote Dear Sofia or Dear Boomer or Dear Lily's Great-Aunt at the top of this postcard, wouldn't that change the words that followed? Of course it would. But the question is: When I wrote Dear Lily, was that just a version of Dear Myself? I know it was more than that. But it was also less than that, too

But the thing about a cry for help is that someone else needs to be around to hear it.

This is the thing they don't tell you about being a third wheel - it's not like you're the wheel that's added on. You were one of the original two wheels, but suddenly you're not so important anymore. The relationship drives fine without you.

Every single answer starts with the phrase 'I don't know.' But most of the time she does know, if I give her the time and the space in which to answer.

The terrorists-those nineteen people, with hundreds or maybe thousands behind them-did the worst thing you can possibly imagine. But tens of millions people did the right thing...On 9/11, all the hatred and murder could not compare with the weight of love, of bravery, of caring.

he hopes that maybe it'll make people a little less scared of two boys kissing than they were before, and a little more welcoming to the idea that all people are, in fact, born equal, no matter who they kiss or screw, no matter what dreams they have or love they give.

It's the secret smile you get from knowing that, somewhere, there is someone who is yours. Not in the sense that you own her or control her. She is yours because you can say anything to her, whenever you need to. And she can do the same, whenever she needs to.

hurt tends to drown out sorry.

As if when someone close to us dies, we momentarily trade places with them, in the moment right before. And as we get over it, we're really living their life in reverse, from death to life, from sickness to health.

If I'm not telling you something, it's for a reason. Just because you trust me, it doesn't mean I have to automatically trust you. Trust doesn't work like that.

I think they have compatible silences.