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Animals Quotes

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Animals Quotes

“Some animal rights activists are demanding vegetarianism, even veganism now, or nothing. But since only 4 or 5 percent of Americans claim to be vegetarians, 'nothing' is the far more likely outcome. I ask these activists to weigh the horrors of Bladen County's industrial farms and the Tar Heel slaughterhouse against the consequences of doing nothing to alleviate the hour-to-hour sufferings of its victims. Is not a life lived off the factory farm and a death humanely inflicted superior to the terrible lives we know they lead and the horrible deaths we know they suffer in Bladen County today?”

“Later Siddhartha was to recount how the most crucial incident of his childhood occurred when he was nine. In the spring he was taken to the ploughing festival. This was a very important day for the Shakya people who were agriculturalists. On this day, the ploughing season began. The king, Siddhartha's father, would ceremonially cut the first furrow with a special plough. It was the occasion for a great spring festival and everybody was celebrating. Siddhartha was taken along by his nurse maids to watch his father perform the all important symbolic act of making the first cut in the ground. As Siddhartha watched, what this sensitive child saw was the beautiful earth being cut open: cut open in order that the people might grow crops and so live; cut open just as, perhaps, he knew that his mother had been cut open to give him life. He saw insects turned up by the plough, ejected from their homes. He saw worms cut into pieces. He saw the birds descend and eat the little creatures squirming on the broken soil. He saw that in this cutting there was much suffering. He felt the suffering himself. He felt a great urge to remove himself from this painful spectacle. He slipped away from his nurse maids and went to sit under a tree. Later they came looking for him and found that he had gone into a deep state of concentration. As he reflected upon what he had witnessed he was unaware of their approach or of them observing him. This was the first time, he entered into the kind of intense rapture we call samadhi. So Siddhartha grew up with a deep concern about the meaning of suffering in his heart. He knew that he was alive because his mother had died. He knew that people were only able to feed at the expense of the cutting of the earth. He felt the unavoidability of much suffering acutely. He went out from the palace and he saw people who were sick and he learned how nobody is immune to sickness. He saw how people grow old and how nobody is able to avert doing so if they live long. And if they do not live, then they die and this too is an affliction, both for the person who dies and for those who grieve. Siddhartha was certainly sensitive enough to grieve. The great mass of suffering in the world seemed to weigh upon him.”

“No set of numbers can tell the whole story, but when it comes to the annual slaughter of farmed animals, the numbers have such an oppressive weight that they can easily overwhelm the stories behind them: 69 billion chickens, 1.5 billion pigs, 656 million turkeys, 574 million sheep, 479 million goats and 302 million cows. In total, 72.5 billion farmed animals were killed for human consumption in 2018. Ten times the global human population, slaughtered every year. Nor does this number include the ducks, rabbits, horses, geese, kangaroos, bison and other land animals killed so that we can eat their meat, And what about the fishes?”

“Religion has never befriended the cause of humaneness. Its monstrous doctrine of eternal punishment and the torture of the damned underlies much of the barbarity with which man has treated man; and the deep division imagined by the Church between the human being, with his immortal soul, and the soulless "beasts", has been responsible for an incalculable sum of cruelty.”

“It is often said, as an excuse for the slaughter of animals, that it is better for them to live and to be butchered than not to live at all. … In fact, if we once admit that it is an advantage to an animal to be brought into the world, there is hardly any treatment that cannot be justified by the supposed terms of such a contract. Also, the argument must apply to mankind. It has, in fact, been the plea of the slave-breeder; and it is logically just as good an excuse for slave-holding as for flesh-eating. It would justify parents in almost any treatment of their children, who owe them, for the great boon of life, a debt of gratitude which no subsequent services can repay. We could hardly deny the same merit to cannibals, if they were to breed their human victims for the table, as the early Peruvians are said to have done.”

“I displayed from my earliest years the greatest sensibility of disposition. I cannot say with what passion I loved every thing even the inanimate objects that surrounded me. I believe that I bore an individual attachment to every tree in our park; every animal that inhabited it knew me and I loved them. Their occasional deaths filled my infant heart with anguish. I cannot number the birds that I have saved during the long and severe winters of that climate; or the hares and rabbits that I have defended from the attacks of our dogs, or have nursed when accidentally wounded.”

“I brought some cat food for Glen on the way home. The thing about Glen is that, despite her offhand manner, she loves me. I know she's only a cat. But it's still love; animals, people. It's unconditional, & it's both the easiest & the hardest thing in the world. [...] It isn't annoying, her need - it isn't a burden. It's a privilege. I'm responsible. I chose to put myself in a situation where I'm responsible. Wanting to look after her, a small, dependent, vulnerable creature, is innate, & I don't even have to think about it. It's like breathing. For some people.”

“I am no theologian, and do not have the answers to these questions, and one of the reasons I enjoy the animals on the farm so much is that they don't think about their pain, or question it, they accept it and endure it, true stoics. I have never heard a donkey or cow whine (although I guess dogs do). I told my friend this: pain, like joy, is a gift. It challenges us, tests, defines us, causes us to grow, empathize, and also, to appreciate its absence. If nothing else, it sharpens the experience of joy. The minute something happens to me that causes pain, I start wondering how I can respond to it, what I can learn from it, what it has taught me or shown me about myself. This doesn't make it hurt any less, but it puts it, for me, on a more manageable level. I don't know if there is a God, or if he causes me or anybody else to hurt, or if he could stop pain. I try to accept it and live beyond it. I think the animals have taught me that. The Problem of Pain is that it exists, and is ubiquitous. The Challenge of Pain is how we respond to it.”

“The thought of foals being taken away from their mothers, ripped without warning from everything familiar and loved, then starved, clubbed, or sold for meat, tore her heart to shreds. Tears filled her eyes as she imagined Blue and the nurse mare, scared and confused and frantic, wondering why someone had taken their babies. She could almost feel the horrible, heavy pain in their chests, the terror and helplessness in their minds. It didn't matter that they were animals. Mares still possessed the maternal instinct. She had seen it with her own eyes when Bonnie Blue looked back at her newborn filly. It was love at first sight. Her mother had never looked at her that way, but Julia had studied enough interactions between mothers and daughters to recognize unconditional love when she saw it.”

“In the wild, he thought, there would be almost no waiting. Waiting was what happened to you when you lost control, when events were out of your hands or your freedom was taken from you; but in the wild there would always be trying. In the wild there must be trying and trying, he thought, and no waiting at all. Waiting was a position of dependency.”

“This Elixir Smites by Stewart Stafford How dull the rose's painted lustre, As bees gossip, all mistrust her, Window taps on stormy nights, Aphids swarm as suckling mites. Once buds entwined at Nature's hip, Now cleft in two and water-dipped, Glass-twisted strangest shape, Mauve-petalled mausoleum draped. Neglected drops in muted drought, The bloody thorns scratch about, A lush finger in withered point, Pruned stem of glum conjoint. Cataclysms from petty faults arise; Reflection pardoned in imperfect eyes. © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.”

“But why must the system go to such lengths to block our empathy? Why all the psychological acrobatics? The answer is simple: because we care about animals, and we don't want them to suffer. And because we eat them. Our values and behaviors are incongruent, and this incongruence causes us a certain degree of moral discomfort. In order to alleviate this discomfort, we have three choices: we can change our values to match our behaviors, we can change our behaviors to match our values, or we can change our perception of our behaviors so that they appear to match our values. It is around this third option that our schema of meat is shaped. As long as we neither value unnecessary animal suffering nor stop eating animals, our schema will distort our perceptions of animals and the meat we eat, so that we feel comfortable enough to consume them. And the system that constructs our schema of meat equips us with the means by which to do this.”

“But from the texture of the very human heart arises the strongest argument in behalf of the persecuted creatures. Within us there exists a rooted repugnance to the spilling of blood; a repugnance which yields only to custom, and which even the most inveterate custom can never entirely overcome. Hence the ungracious task of shedding the tide of life for the gluttony of our table, has, in every country, been committed to the lowest class of men; and their profession is, in every country, an object of abhorrence. On the carcase we feed, without remorse, because the dying struggles of the butchered creature are secluded from our sight; because his cries pierce not our ear; because his agonising shrieks sink not into our soul: but were we forced, with our own hands, to assassinate the animals whom we devour, who is there amongst us that would not throw down, with detestation, the knife; and, rather than embrue his hands in the murder of the lamb, consent, for ever, to forego the favourite repast? What then shall we say? Vainly planted in our breast, is this abhorrence of cruelty, this sympathetic affection for every animal?”

“And if, as all philosophers on the subject have noted, art is a human activity that relies on the senses to reach the soul, did it not also stand to reason that dogs -- at least dogs of Mr. Bones' caliber -- would have it in them to feel a similar aesthetic impulse? Would they not, in other words, be able to appreciate art? As far as Willy knew, no one had ever thought of this before. Did that make him the first man in recorded history to believe such a thing was possible? No matter. It was an idea whose time had come. If dogs were beyond the pull of oil paintings and string quartets, who was to say they wouldn't respond to an art based on the sense of smell? Why not an olfactory art? Why not an art for dogs that dealt with the world as dogs knew it?”

“The dark object stepped out of the bushes’ shades to reveal a young rabbit-like creature. He was light brown, with long and wide large ears, skinny long legs, an agile body, large yellow eyes, and a fuzzy small tail. “You are a cute bunny!!” said Nader. “I’m not a bunny! I am he, the most fearless, the bravest, and most courageous, Shuja’ , the Arabian hare,”

“Willkommen in einem kurzen Leben, das beendet werden wird, von Leuten, die dich verzehren werden, danach ausscheiden, ohne dich zu fragen. Sie werden sich nicht erkundigen, ob du vielleicht depressiv bist, in deinem Scheißstall, weil es zu dunkel ist und zu eng, und ob du darum sterben und gefressen werden willst. Sie verfügen über dich, weil sie es so geschrieben haben, in ihren Märchenbüchern, damit sie sagen können: Es steht geschrieben, dass das Tier dem Menschen zu dienen habe und die Frau dem Mann, und das haben sich Männer ausgedacht, die gerne Fleisch fressen und Frauen prügeln, weil es ihnen hilft, mit diesem unwürdigen Leben zurechtzukommen, wo sie doch am Ende in die Hosen machen, da ist es doch ein Moment der Größe, ein Tier töten und das Bein auf seine Brust stellen.”

“RELATIONSHIPS & THE INNER BEING The other is a mirror of our own face; the other is a mirror of our inner being. The entire universe is a manifestation of our own inner being. Man is the microcosm and the universe is the macrocosm. In our inner being, we are one with all. True relationships is to see ourselves in all beings and to see all beings in ourselves. The inner being is not only present in human beings, but it is also present in flowers, trees, animals, stones and the stars. The divine exists everywhere in nature. Once we realize this we will never feel alone. We find the communion of the heart everywhere.”

“Whether people need nature or not, it was clear that nature needed people. But perhaps nature needs us like a hostage needs her captors: nature needs us not to annihilate her, not to run her over, not to cover her with cement, not to chop her down. We can hardly admire ourselves, then, when we stop to accommodate nature's needs: we are dubious heroes who create peril and then save it's victims, we who rescue the animals and the trees from ourselves.”

“Siku ya kwanza dhambi ya kwanza ilipotendwa Mungu alitoa kafara ya kwanza ya wanyama kwa ajili ya wazazi wetu wa kwanza Adamu na Hawa. Adamu na Hawa walikuwa uchi, baada ya kutenda dhambi, Mungu akawalaani lakini akawapa uwezo wa muda mfupi wa kutubu dhambi zao ili awasamehe! Kutokana na ngozi za wanyama hao walipata mavazi na kutokana na damu ya wanyama hao walipata fursa ya kuishi na kutubu dhambi zote walizozitenda. Bila hivyo wasingepata muda wa kusamehewa.”

“Love a man even in his sin, for that is the semblance of Divine Love and is the highest love on eath. Love all God's creation, the whole and every grain of sand in it. Love the animals, love the plants, love everything. If you love everything, you will percieve the divine mystery in things. Once you percieve it, you will begin to comprehend it better every day. And you will come at last to love the whole world with an all-embracing love.”

“I often wish I could go back in time and tell my young, anxious self that my dreams weren't in vain and my sorrows weren't permanent. I can't do that, but I can do something better. I can tell you that teachers are all around to help you; with four legs or two or eight or even none; some with internal skeletons, some without. All you have to do is recognize them as teachers and be ready to hear their truths.”

“While not all elements in the Periodic Table are represented by letters of the alphabet, some in this book (Magical Elements of the Periodic Table Presented Alphabetically by the Metal Horn Unicorns), are introduced by alternate designations. For instance, Tungsten is also known as Wolfram so “W” is used as the entry for that alphabetical letter in this book. The letter “W” is also used as the atomic symbol for Tungsten in all periodic tables.”

“And then came the three-toed sloth. Stupid sloth. It was a crazy-looking beastie, all arms and bristling grey fur; its body was a blob, the kind of shape a six-year-old would draw for a pig, and its face was flattened like a racoon that had run full tilt into a brick wall. A triangular stub of a nose jutted out at an angle beneath a fringe that must have been difficult to see through. In fact, from side-on it looked disturbingly like John Lennon.”