We are seldom sorry for those who need and crave our pity — we reserve this for those who, by other means, make us exercise the abstract function of pity.
Pity must join together those whom wrath has torn in sunder.
Pity is the feeling which arrests the mind in the presence of whatsoever is grave and constant in human sufferings and unites it with the human sufferer.
Pity is for the living, envy is for the dead.
One pities in others only those ills from which one does not feel oneself exempt.[Pitié des infortunés; quand on est témoin de leur mal, on en souffre.]
Cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.
