Best 6441 quotes in «humanity quotes» category

It's despair at the lack of (I'm cheating, I didn't say all these things - but I'm going to write what I want to say as well as what I did) feeling, of love, of reason in the world. It's despair that anyone can even contemplate the idea of dropping a bomb or ordering that it should be dropped. It's despair that so few of us care. It's despair that there's so much brutality and callousness in the world.

It's easy to romanticize the people in our lives that mean something to us. We elevate them onto a higher plane that the rest of humanity. They appear glorious and pristine and full of wonders of the Universe all wrapped up into one person-sized box waiting to be unpacked. It's easy to forget, when they appear perfect in every way and in every facet of their lives with every action they take, in the end they are still human. And we duly forget being human comes with an inherent composition of flaws in our genetic and mental make-up.

It seems to me that the greatest triumph of any human rights movement, be it fighting for racial, religious, sexual or gender equality – is to achieve that moment where eyes are opened so wide that a sort of blindness sets in. I don’t care if someone is black, white, gay or straight. I don’t care if a woman has children or no – I just want to know who they are. [...] At the end of the day, gender differences seem to me to be just a tiny, tiny drop in the great expanse of things that make people unique. Unique, not ‘different’, not ‘other’ merely another piece of that great teaming mass that makes up the wonderfully rich, thrillingly varied definition of ‘humanity’." [Playing Butch: Blog entry, February 24, 2014]

It seems a common human failing to prefer the schematic authority of a text to the disorientations of direct encounters with the human.

It seems very strange that one must turn back, and be transported to the very beginnings of history, in order to arrive at an understanding of humanity as it is at present.

It seems to me now that the plain state of being human is dramatic enough for anyone; you don't need to be a heroin addict or a performance poet to experience extremity. You just have to love someone.

It seemed to us that all people to a greater or lesser degree belong to one of these two types, that almost every one of us resembles either Don Quixote or Hamlet.

It's idealistic, it's for love and gentleness, it's close to nature, it hurts nobody, it's voluntary. I can't see anything wrong with any of that.' 'Neither can I. The only trouble is, this commune will be inhabited by and surrounded by members of the human race.

It should be made clear that religious freedom DOES NOT include the right to persecute others, nor the right to take away their humanity and equal treatment before the law.

It’s like we have the bones of animals and the hearts of angels.

It's not about saving humanity. It never has been." Mantrella, THE WAKING GOD TRILOGY

It's not about what I SEE for our future, or humanity; It's about what I DO for our future and humanity.

It's not just about what I can SEE for our future, or humanity; it's about what I can DO for our future and humanity.

It's not man's job to think about whether God exists or not, especially when you know that right in front of your eyes one person is stepping on another's neck.

It's not perfection that makes you beautiful, It's your imperfections

It's okay to cry, it just shows that you are human. It's okay to feel happy, it just shows that you are human. It's okay to love, it just shows that you are human. Just don't turn them off, ignore them, or neglect them; feeling is the only way to show you are a human.

It's ok to learn things from other people, because we grow with the people around us.

Its proved by time , that if you ever add a EGO in any relation, suddenly that relation will disappear form your life for forever.

It's only people, as far as we know, who look up at the stars and wonder what they are.

It’s so easy to lose faith and become lost in all of the politics of the world. That’s why we need the arts. To sublimate our frustration and anger into something beautiful. Freud called sublimation a virtuous defence mechanism because it is in the arts that we can find our humanity.

It's the in-between, the sustenance, not just the gears and bolts that make a human. When you forget to find out how the person was built—the oil, chemistry, and the craft—you miss all the beauty.

It takes all the strength of my spirit to transform my executioners into animals, not to leave the slightest opening, to discuss nothing, not even Pelé . Which is impossible, I never met anyone who couldn’t. And that is how along with fear, shame takes its hold.

It takes lives to save lives.

It took around 500 years to human to find out that black people are human and still they don't know why the universe is black

It was a beaten-down level of sharing responsibility; a frail society holding each other's hands just to keep from falling over.

It was an old hunter in camp and the hunter shared tobacco with him and told him of the buffalo and the stands he'd made against them, laid up in a sag on some rise with the dead animals scattered over the grounds and the herd beginning to mill and the riflebarrel so hot the wiping patches sizzled in the bore and the animals by the thousands and the tens of thousands and the hides pegged out over actual square miles of ground the teams of skinners spelling one another around the clock and the shooting and shooting weeks and months till the bore shot slick and the stock shot loose at the tang and their shoulders were yellow and blue to the elbow and the tandem wagons groaned away over the prairie twenty and twenty-two ox teams and the flint hides by the hundred ton and the meat rotting on the ground and the air whining with flies and the buzzards and ravens and the night a horror of snarling and feeding with the wolves half-crazed and wallowing in the carrion. I seen Studebaker wagons with six and eight ox teams headed out for the grounds not hauling a thing but lead. Just pure galena. Tons of it. On this ground alone between the Arkansas River and the Concho there were eight million carcasses for that's how many hides reached the railhead. Two years ago we pulled out from Griffin for a last hunt. We ransacked the country. Six weeks. Finally found a herd of eight animals and we killed them and come in. They're gone. Ever one of them that God ever made is gone as if they'd never been at all. The ragged sparks blew down the wind. The prairie about them lay silent. Beyond the fire it was cold and the night was clear and the stars were falling. The old hunter pulled his blanket about him. I wonder if there's other worlds like this, he said. Or if this is the only one.

It was an accident that has endowed man with intelligence. He has made use of it: he invented stupidity.

...it was never the Event - illness, asteroid, nuclear war, whatever - that was the problem. It was what people did after. And people always reduced to their least human denominators when things went bad.

It was humanity's way of shrugging 'I don't know, what do you think?' Humanity also had a rather difficult time handling the answers to it's own question.

It was good to be a stranger in a land when you felt aggressive and acquisitive, but when you began to weave your horizons into some kind of shelter it was good to know that hands you loved had helped in their spinning - made you feel as if the threads would hold together better.

It was not until 2014, more than two decades after the mastodon's discovery [a mastodon scavenged by humans in the Americas], that the tide decisively turned. Built on improved understanding of processes that incorporate natural uranium and its decay products in fossil bone, a newly enhanced technique, known as 230 Th/U radiometric dating, was now available that could settle the age of the Cerutti deposit once and for all. Deméré therefore sent several of the mastodon bones to the US Geological Survey in Colorado, where geologist Jim Paces, using the updated and refined technique, established beyond reasonable doubt that the bones were buried 130,000 years ago.

It was the hate of the used and tormented, who are the children of the used and tormented, and whose own children will be used and tormented.

It was one thing to deal with monsters that were human in appearance. Another thing entirely to deal with humans who were monsters.

It was the centuries-old battle of man to keep his race alive and push forward into the future, the ceaseless, furious struggle of that beastlike, god-like—primitive, sophisticated—savage and civilized—composite organism that was the human race fighting to endure and push onward. Onward, and up, and up again, until the impossible was achieved, all barriers were broken, all pains conquered, all abilities possessed. Until all was lightning and no darkness left.

It were better that we were not at all, than that we should live still in wickedness, and to suffer, and not to know wherefore.

It would be well to realize that the talk of ‘humane methods of warfare’, of the ‘rules of civilized warfare’, and all such homage to the finer sentiments of the race are hypocritical and unreal, and only intended for the consumption of stay-at-homes. There are no humane methods of warfare, there is no such thing as civilized warfare; all warfare is inhuman, all warfare is barbaric; the first blast of the bugles of war ever sounds for the time being the funeral knell of human progress… What lover of humanity can view with anything but horror the prospect of this ruthless destruction of human life. Yet this is war: war for which all the jingoes are howling, war to which all the hopes of the world are being sacrificed, war to which a mad ruling class would plunge a mad world.

I urge you to listen. I beg you to pay attention for these are the most important words I will ever pen: Do not succumb to the half-life! To the indifference and apathy of those cool and aloof individuals. Nothing affects them, their lover cries out desperately for affection but they shrug their shoulders—for they are always shrugging— and transcend the messy drama of the human situation. O this transcendental invincibility—I tell you: the shit of the bull! We are not gods. We are human. Even Christ chose immanence so He could feel as the people felt, suffer as they did. You must revel in your neuroses, your sensitivities and sensibilities. Burn your excitable character, do not extinguish this fire. Stay within. Taste the immediacy of living. Be in life with others. Do not yield to the hypocrisy the world demands! Do not succumb to the shadows, to the half-light, to the half-life. We are not gods. Be human.

I used to feel spiritually inferior because I had not experienced the more spectacular manifestations of the Spirit and could not point to any bona fide “miracles” in my life. Increasingly, though, I have come to see that what I value may differ greatly from what God values. Jesus, often reluctant to perform miracles, considered it progress when he departed earth and entrusted the mission to his flawed disciples. Like a proud parent, God seems to take more delight as a spectator of the bumbling achievements of stripling children than in any self-display of omnipotence. From God’s perspective, if I may speculate, the great advance in human history may be what happened at Pentecost, which restored the direct correspondence of spirit to Spirit that had been lost in Eden. I want God to act in direct, impressive, irrefutable ways. God wants to “share power” with the likes of me, accomplishing his work through people, not despite them.

I use the terms "sky" and "earth" because as a human I cannot imagine those elements not being there. It is a way to give substance to nothingness.

I’ve had enough of someone else’s propaganda… I’m for truth, no matter who tells it. I’m for justice, no matter who it is for or against. I’m a human being first and foremost, and as such I’m for whoever and whatever benefits humanity as a whole.

I’ve come to understand the cumulative dialogue of my work as a kind of cartography of wisdom about our emerging world. This book is a map in words to important territory we all are on now together. It’s a collection of pointers that treat the margins as seriously as the noisy center. For change has always happened in the margins, across human history, and it’s happening there now. Seismic shifts in common life, as in geophysical reality, begin in spaces and cracks.

I've never known what to do," said Rincewind with hollow cheerfulness. "Been completely at a loss my whole life." He hesitated. "I think it's called being human, or something.

I've seen so many fools who think in their heart there's no God, but the fools that amaze me most are the ones who think they are God.

I’ve never been motivated by money – it doesn’t drive Me.

I've often heard people say, “Your country is beautiful, a virtual paradise.” When will the people of Indonesia be as beautiful as their land, with a civilization and culture that contributes to the greater beauty of humankind and no longer smothers and strangles the mind?

I wanna say I am somebody. I wanna say it on subway, TV, movie, LOUD. I see the pink faces in suits look over top of my head. I watch myself disappear in their eyes, their tesses. I talk loud but still I don't exist.

I wanted something that would address the strengths and weaknesses of humanity. I wanted a story that could move readers. My Honor Flight is that story.

I want to be a journalist again. I want to make a difference in the world.

I ville, at vi skal være Christne, og I ville selv ikke være det. Men, hvis I ville ikke være Christne, saa værer i det ringeste Mennisker. Handle med os i det ringeste ligesom I ingen anden Religion havde end den, som Naturens Lys dicterer.

... I want to feel alive... so I don't have any thoughts on so far to ending my life. I still like people's impressions and expressions, I can't stop do that moreover to watch that.... Interesting face... once upon a time a girl asked me "How do I feel"... I said "Not okay"... and that was all... - Pretty confusing!