What a cunning mixture of sentiment, pity, tenderness, irony surrounds >>
The world is eaten up by boredom. You can't see it all at once. It is >>
No one ever discovers the depths of his own loneliness. >>
Until he extends his circle of compassion to include all living things >>
Minerva save us from the cloying syrup of coercive compassion! >>
You may call God love, you may call God goodness. But the best name fo >>
I know the compassion of others is a relief at first. I don't despise it. But it can't quench pain, it slips through your soul as through a sieve. And when our suffering has been dragged from one pity to another, as from one mouth to another, we can no longer respect or love it.