Best 54 quotes in «animal cruelty quotes» category

A prison for animals who committed no crimes is what a zoo is." - On Zoos

Be a good boy, remember; and be kind to animals and birds, and read all you can.

Beauty Smith was cruel in the way that cowards are cruel…he revenged himself, in turn, upon creatures weaker than he. All life likes power, and Beauty Smith was no exception. Denied the expression of power amongst his own kind, he fell back upon the lesser creatures and there vindicated the life that was in him.

Das Ur-Evangelium der Essener und seine Verfälschung. Das Neue Testament ist ein Plagiat des Evangeliums der Essener. Diese Studie beweist, dass das Evangelium der Essener älter ist, als das Neue Testament.

Dans leur ensemble, les humains ne veulent pas entendre parler des conditions dans lesquelles la viande est obtenue. Ils zappent la phase de l’élevage autant que celle de l'abattage. Quand ce n'est pas du déni, c'est au moins de l’évitement. Nul ne veut savoir la somme de souffrances qu'il a fallu pour produire ce fricandeau, ce boudin noir, cette escalope milanaise ou ce ris de veau. C'est comme s'ils arrivaient dans nos assiettes par une opération du Saint-Esprit.

Das Evangelium der Essener Plagiat Der Nachweist für die Authentizität des Evangeliums der Essener. Das Evangelium der Essener ist nachweislich 2000 Jahre alt und hat als Vorlage für das Verfassen des Evangeliums der Essener gedient.

Fuck ’em,” said Ford, slumping on the bed. “You can’t care about every damn thing.

Ei saa arvostella eläinkokeitten tekijöitä. Heillä on tunteet. He kaipaavat vapautta ja raitista ilmaa, hellyyttä ja hyväksyntää, oikeutta olla oma itsensä, toimia niin kuin heille on luontaista. Heitä pitää paijata ja hyvitellä: Ei se mitään. Anteeksi. Me olimme julmia teitä kohtaan. Nyt lopetamme sen. Meillä ei ole oikeutta kohdella teitä näin. Menkää. Eläkää. Ei tarvitse vavista enää.

I remember one bobcat they had in here - now bobcats are an endangered species in this neck of the woods - they'd caught it somewhere and they must have put that cat through a dozen rounds of burn experiments before they finally determined that it was utterly useless to them. Like an empty beer can. And then you know what they did to it? Claudius was late for a lunch date so rather thanput the destroyed but still breathing animal to sleep, he picked it up by its hind legs and simply smashed its head against a wall repeatedly until it was dead. How can I forget it: I was the one told to clean up the mess. The head dented in. The eyes slowly closing. The once proud claws hanging down, stunned and lifeless, the utter senselessness of it all, and the hate, a hatred that was consummated in me which is as dangerous a hormone, or chemical, or portion of the brain, as any neutron bomb. Except that I didnt know how to explode. I was like a computer without a keyboard, a bird without wings. Roaring inside. I wanted to kill that man. To do unto others what they had done unto me. I was that bobcat, you better believe it.

If modern civilised man had to keep the animals he eats, the number of vegetarians would rise astronomically.

I again flourished my papers: “Here’re my credentials from the Coalition Administration.” The American scrutinized the papers, shook his head in amazement, and smiled. “A South African,” he said. “You’re sure a long way from home.” He radioed through for instructions and indicated that I should bring my hired car up to the side of the roadblock and wait.

If you don't like pictures of animal cruelty being posted on social media, you need to help stop the cruelty, not the pictures. You should be bothered that its happening, not that you saw it.

If you really care about animals, then stop trying to figure out how to exploit them 'compassionately'. Just stop exploiting them.

It’s hard to imagine calling the dairy industry anything but “inhumane” when you consider that on dairy farms, cows are artificially inseminated and forced to give birth, only to have their beloved babies torn away from them so the milk that nature intended for them can instead be consumed by humans. Both mother cows and their calves are emotionally traumatised when forcibly separated from one another. The mother cows bellow in desperation, and their calves bawl in distress. They cry out for each other for days – in vain. The male calves – often referred to as “by-products” – are either shot at birth or destined to become veal. The female calves, like their mothers, face a lifetime of repeated forcible impregnation and anguish over their stolen babies. Their bodies are strained to the limit in order to squeeze out every last drop of milk. Today, British cows typically produce 10 times more milk than they would naturally in order to feed their calves.

It is inhuman to humanize animals; it is like raising a child in a cage.

It's ironic that it was not until I lost my hearing that I finally found my voice. Sign language saved my soul.

It is inhuman to humanize animals, the consequences are very disturbing.

Jokainen eläin on subjekti. Se on: oman elämänsä keskipiste, itsensä puolustaja, varuillaan joka suuntaan niin kuin sinä ja minä. Omanarvontuntoinen: ei sallisi itseään loukattavan. Kohteita on vain rakkaudella ja julmuudella ja toiveilla, muuten on kaikki vain omaa kokemusta. Omaa kokemusta kaikki. Kaikki on minä. Minä riipun sinun olkapäilläsi tapettuna. Minä pelkään kun lähestyt pihdit kädessä. Minä istun ja odotan sinun häkissäsi. Minä palelen. Minulla on ahdasta. Minuun koskee. Olet unohtanut jotain oleellista. Olet unohtanut että minä olen minä. Ei tämä ole stressiä. Minä kärsin.

Japan and Hong Kong are steadily whittling away at the last of the elephants, turning their tusks (so much more elegant left on the elephant) into artistic carvings. In much the same way, the beautiful furs from leopard, jaguar, Snow leopard, Clouded leopard and so on, are used to clad the inelegant bodies of thoughtless and, for the most part, ugly women. I wonder how many would buy these furs if they knew that on their bodies they wore the skin of an animal that, when captured, was killed by the medieval and agonizing method of having a red-hot rod inserted up its rectum so as not to mark the skin.

No one with an ounce of empathy could fail to be appalled by the distressing footage – taken on fur farms in Finland, Sweden, the US, and other so-called “high-welfare” countries – of foxes, rabbits, minks, and other animals who were left to suffer in filthy wire cages with untreated wounds, injuries, and even missing limbs, sometimes alongside the rotting corpses of other animals. These frightened, distressed animals often mutilate themselves and their cagemates before their short lives come to an end through painful anal electrocution, neck-breaking, drowning, gassing, or strangulation.

Men are the devils of the earth, and the animals are the tormented souls. - On Religion

Life is as precious to us as it is for an animal. An animal is as loving, caring, and kind to her children as we are. She might not be able to tell us but she can express it through her eyes and expressions. She feels joy and happiness. She is helpless in our cruel hands and vulnerable to our vicious greed. Let us be kind to animals. Let us learn to feel their pain. Can we kill a helpless baby to feed our greed? Then how can we kill helpless animal friends that can’t talk? Often we kill just for fun. How funny would it be if an animal killed a human just for fun? Let us be kind to animals as much as possible. I know we can. It is easier to love an animal than a human being. If you love an animal, it will rarely hurt you. Let us practice kindness and compassion to animals so that we may create a peaceful world.

Meat may taste good, but the guilt of eating it tastes far worse.

Roaches should never trust humans. We’re all doomed.

Poor Buttercup was not in a very good mood; for she had been lately bereft of her calf, and mourned for the little thing most dismally. Just now she regarded all mankind as her enemies (and I do not blame her), so when the matadore came prancing towards her with the red handkerchief flying at the end of his long lance, she threw up her head, and gave a most appropriate "Moo!".

Saturday evening, on a quiet lazy afternoon, I went to watch a bullfight in Las Ventas, one of Madrid's most famous bullrings. I went there out of curiosity. I had long been haunted by the image of the matador with its custom made torero suit, embroidered with golden threads, looking spectacular in his "suit of light" or traje de luces as they call it in Spain. I was curious to see the dance of death unfold in front of me, to test my humanity in the midst of blood and gold, and to see in which state my soul will come out of the arena, whether it will be shaken and stirred, furious and angry, or a little bit aware of the life embedded in every death. Being an avid fan of Hemingway, and a proponent of his famous sentence "About morals, I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and what is immoral is what you feel bad after,” I went there willingly to test myself. I had heard atrocities about bullfighting yet I had this immense desire to be part of what I partially had an inclination to call a bloody piece of cultural experience. As I sat there, in front of the empty arena, I felt a grandiose feeling of belonging to something bigger than anything I experienced during my stay in Spain. Few minutes and I'll be witnessing a painting being carefully drawn in front of me, few minutes and I will be part of an art form deeply entrenched in the Spanish cultural heritage: the art of defying death. But to sit there, and to watch the bull enter the arena… To watch one bull surrounded by a matador and his six assistants. To watch the matador confronting the bull with the capote, performing a series of passes, just before the picador on a horse stabs the bull's neck, weakening the neck muscles and leading to the animal's first loss of blood... Starting a game with only one side having decided fully to engage in while making sure all the odds will be in the favor of him being a predetermined winner. It was this moment precisely that made me feel part of something immoral. The unfair rules of the game. The indifferent bull being begged to react, being pushed to the edge of fury. The bull, tired and peaceful. The bull, being teased relentlessly. The bull being pushed to a game he isn't interested in. And the matador getting credits for an unfair game he set. As I left the arena, people looked at me with mocking eyes. Yes, I went to watch a bull fight and yes the play of colors is marvelous. The matador’s costume is breathtaking and to be sitting in an arena fills your lungs with the sands of time. But to see the amount of claps the spill of blood is getting was beyond what I can endure. To hear the amount of claps injustice brings is astonishing. You understand a lot about human nature, about the wars taking place every day, about poverty and starvation. You understand a lot about racial discrimination and abuse (verbal and physical), sex trafficking, and everything that stirs the wounds of this world wide open. You understand a lot about humans’ thirst for injustice and violence as a way to empower hidden insecurities. Replace the bull and replace the matador. And the arena will still be there. And you'll hear the claps. You've been hearing them ever since you opened your eyes.

One of the most dangerous things that can happen to a child is to kill or torture an animal and not be held responsible. [Cultural Factors in the Cause of Pathological Homicide. Bulletin of Menninger Clinic]

People will say we're being a little bit anthropomorphic?' I remembered Brendan's use of the word - 'human-like'. 'Anyone who doesn't believe that animals are aware that they have family and friends, and care about them, must also be a paid-up member of the Flat Earth Society, or still think the sun revolves around the earth,' replied Dylan disdainfully. 'I mean, how switched off can you be? How can anyone still believe animals don't have emotions? They're alive and emotions are a response to life. I've seen warthogs that are more intelligent and more responsible than some people I know. Not to say better parents.

Scientific studies and government records suggest that virtually all (upwards of 95 percent of) chickens become infected with E. coli (an indicator of fecal contamination) and between 39 and 75 percent of chickens in retail stores are still infected. Around 8 percent of birds become infected with salmonella (down from several years ago, when at least one in four birds was infected, which still occurs on some farms). Seventy to 90 percent are infected with another potentially deadly pathogen, campylobacter. Chlorine baths are commonly used to remove slime, odor, and bacteria. Of course, consumers might notice that their chickens don't taste quite right - how good could a drug-stuffed, disease-ridden, shit-contaminated animal possibly taste? - but the birds will be injected (or otherwise pumped up) with "broths" and salty solutions to give them what we have come to think of as the chicken look, smell, and taste. (A recent study by Consumer Reports found that chicken and turkey products, many labeled as natural, "ballooned with 10 to 30 percent of their weight as broth, flavoring, or water.

The Americans were understandably on hair triggers. There was a good reason for all of this security. For despite TV images of quick victory, much of Baghdad certainly had not fallen and firefights with die-hard Ba’athists loyal to Saddam Hussein were raging all over the city.

She wasn't soft, but she never saw the sense of a living thing dying such a cruel death just for some woman's vanity. Still, she thought, a fur coat when the wind blew down off the Tenmile Range would feel mighty good. Maybe they made fur coats out of foxes that died of old age.

Societies that lack respect for animals eventually lose respect for human beings.

Some animals would be offended if they were treated like some people.

Su mundo de humanos standard: Una burbuja donde nada sino lo humano es oído o visto realmente, donde nada más que lo humano importa y lo demás es paisaje, mercancía o comida.

That accounts for his crying so. Poor creature!” ”Well--you must do the sticking--there's no help for it. I'll showyou how. Or I'll do it myself--I think I could. Though as it issuch a big pig I had rather Challow had done it. However, his basketo' knives and things have been already sent on here, and we can use'em.” ”Of course you shan't do it,” said Jude. ”I'll do it, since it mustbe done.” He went out to the sty, shovelled away the snow for the space of acouple of yards or more, and placed the stool in front, with theknives and ropes at hand. A robin peered down at the preparationsfrom the nearest tree, and, not liking the sinister look of thescene, flew away, though hungry. By this time Arabella had joinedher husband, and Jude, rope in hand, got into the sty, and noosed theaffrighted animal, who, beginning with a squeak of surprise, rose torepeated cries of rage. Arabella opened the sty-door, and togetherthey hoisted the victim on to the stool, legs upward, and while Judeheld him Arabella bound him down, looping the cord over his legs tokeep him from struggling. The animal's note changed its quality. It was not now rage, but thecry of despair; long-drawn, slow and hopeless. ”Upon my soul I would sooner have gone without the pig than have hadthis to do!” said Jude. ”A creature I have fed with my own hands.” ”Don't be such a tender-hearted fool! There's the sticking-knife--the one with the point. Now whatever you do, don't stick un toodeep.” ”I'll stick him effectually, so as to make short work of it. That'sthe chief thing.” ”You must not!” she cried. ”The meat must be well bled, and to dothat he must die slow. We shall lose a shilling a score if the meatis red and bloody! Just touch the vein, that's all. I was broughtup to it, and I know. Every good butcher keeps un bleeding long.He ought to be eight or ten minutes dying, at least.” ”He shall not be half a minute if I can help it, however the meat maylook,” said Jude determinedly. Scraping the bristles from the pig'supturned throat, as he had seen the butchers do, he slit the fat;then plunged in the knife with all his might. ”'Od damn it all!” she cried, ”that ever I should say it! You'veover-stuck un! And I telling you all the time--” ”Do be quiet, Arabella, and have a little pity on the creature!

There is no other industry as cruel and oppressive as factory farming. With regard to numbers affected, extent and length of suffering, and numbers of premature deaths, no other industry can even approach factory farming. Billions of individuals are exploited from genetically engineered birth, through excruciating confinement, to conveyor belt dismemberment. Consequently, there is no industry more appropriate for social justice activists to boycott.

The only really useful thing about zoos is that most of them pay most of their workers most of the time.

The existential fact is, we do need to use animals compromising their right to live, if we are to sustain health and welfare in human life, but we can reduce that consumption to a great extent. For example, you can avoid clothing that are made by slaughtering animals. We need animals for food, because vegan diet is not necessarily healthy, as I said earlier, but the same is not true for clothing. We do use animals for clothing, but we don't need to. We could do just fine with non-animal and non-cruel clothing and other apparels.

The fact that things never end well for the rest of the creatures in this world does not seem to bother the least those who think that there is a divine plan. - On the Divine Plan

The latest estimates from the RSPCA and others claim that 19% of dairy bull claves are killed at birth, but no questions are asked as to why this is the case.

The people that set one animal against another haven't the guts to be bullies themselves. They're just secondhand cowards.

There’s the claim that the only progress made is in posing problems that scientists can answer. That philosophy never has the means to answer problems—it’s just biding its time till the scientists arrive on the scene. You hear this quite often. There is, among some scientists, a real anti-philosophical bias. The sense that philosophy will eventually disappear. But there’s a lot of philosophical progress, it’s just a progress that’s very hard to see. It’s very hard to see because we see with it. We incorporate philosophical progress into our own way of viewing the world. [...] And it’s usually philosophical arguments that first introduce the very outlandish idea that we need to extend rights. And it takes more, it takes a movement, and activism, and emotions, to affect real social change. It starts with an argument, but then it becomes obvious. The tracks of philosophy’s work are erased because it becomes intuitively obvious. The arguments against slavery, against cruel and unusual punishment, against unjust wars, against treating children cruelly—these all took arguments. About 30 years ago, the philosopher Peter Singer started to argue about the way animals are treated in our factory farms. Everybody thought he was nuts. But I’ve watched this movement grow; I’ve watched it become emotional. It has to become emotional. You have to draw empathy into it. But here it is, right in our time—a philosopher making the argument, everyone dismissing it, but then people start discussing it.

There’s no way that we can delude ourselves into believing that hunting is a sport. Does the other team know they’re playing? Didn’t think so.” -Shenita Etwaroo

Tom watched with his arms folded as the life that had been within Kobe died out, and the fire continued.

We no longer need fur for warmth and protection. There are plenty of textiles that provide that today. It's pure whim and vanity to choose to wear fur. It shows a level of ignorance or lack of concern that reflects poorly on the wearer.

We know we cannot be kind to animals until we stop exploiting them -- exploiting animals in the name of science, exploiting animals in the name of sport, exploiting animals in the name of fashion, and yes, exploiting animals in the name of food.

Wars will never cease while men still kill other animals for food, for to turn any living creature into a roast, a steak, a chop, or any other type of 'meat' takes the same kind of violence, the same kind of bloodshed, and the same kind of mental processes required to change a living man into a dead soldier.

We don't live in a world of perfect non-violent beauty. If we don't do the trials on animal specimens first, would you rather give yourself or a relative of yours up for experimentation! Some may say, why don't we avoid experimentation on live specimens all together - to them I say, modern medicine is not magic to work without errors - and hard and cruel as it may sound, a live animal specimen is expendable, but not a live human being. You may say, that's not fair - and indeed, it is in no way fair, but that's the reality. The only fairer alternative is to let humans suffer and die from diseases, like they used to, until about a few centuries ago.

Who are we to say dogs and cats have more rights than cows and pigs. They're all conscious. They feel the same. They hurt the same. God help us understand!

Who knows what the long-term effects of saving rescue dogs are and the healing lessons and love they bring to Earth? Each one of us has the capacity to influence hundreds - even thousands of people or animals through the way we live our lives.