Empathy and pity share a difference of definition. Balanced
properly, empathy has been a strength to me where pity leaves me ravenous to
helplessness. Somehow in the embodiment comes transformation. Affection toward sorrow sees no end of it.
“You see, Pity is like an animal. An animal from
which one can make great demands—but must not ask too much. The best of dogs
can go mad. Pity is powerful and devouring. I don’t know why we always think of it as
something rather sniveling and silly. One of the strongest passions of men—that’s
what it is. At that time I thought I should be eaten up by it. Pride, envy,
anger, even lust, the seven deadly sins, were just a chorus howling their pain.
Like a pack of wolves with petrol poured over them and set alight.” (Diary of a Country Priest, Georges Bernanos)
