Quotes About Empathy

Humanity is never so beautiful as when praying for forgiveness, or else forgiving another.

And yet there leaped from his heart a high fountain of love, which penetrated even to the remotest brother.... his heart adhered everywhere like hooked seed, and sent the roots of its happiness into every other being's lot.

Do not wait for extraordinary situations to do good; try to use ordinary situations.

I really believe there are some people who hate to contemplate the happiness of others.

People often vented their rage on those who were the victims of their neglect because they were in truth blaming themselves.

happiness heldis the seed happiness shared is the flower, happiness seems to be shared

Plus l'offenseur m'est cher, plus je ressens l'injure.

Everybody has his reasons.

The truly terrible thing is that everybody has their reasons.

You see, in this world, there is one awful thing, and that is that everyone has his reasons.

The really terrible thing is that everyone has his reasons.

The truly terrible thing is, everyone has his reasons

It occurred to him that loving people made you both strong and weak at the same time.

Never feel remorse for what you have thought about your wife; she has thought much worse things about you.

The joy of giving can uplift the saddened heart.

Lloraba porque no tenía zapatos hasta que conocí a un hombre que no tenía pies»?

lo que el mundo actualmente necesita es una inyección de la clase de sabiduría que las mujeres tienen

She felt the press of friendly hands, the murmur of friendly voices. No one minded. Everyone understood. As

Nobody knows what to do when there's a tragedy. Nobody practices for it.

Conner thought he understood how pride could back up in somebody, get turned around and come out as meanness. But that didn't make it any easier to put up with.

Maybe getting to know a child wasn't entirely unlike meditation. You kept going at it from all different angles, and once in a while something clicked.

His heart cracked open and flooded all the space around it.

But it was hard not to think of her mother as she moved from the sink to the oven and back again, tasting and chopping and doing her best impersonation of her mother. She felt, not a presence, exactly. Something more earthbound, a better understanding, perhaps, of her mother and the life she lived. The endless small chores, the worries, never enough time, and always the barely movable obstacles of her husband and children.

If you have heard a Jewish cantor sing, if he has touched you and made your own sorrow seem trivial when compared with his, you will know my feeling when I follow the curves of her profile, like mobile rivers, to their common delta.