Jane Goodall Quotes

We killed an innocent girl

Who made the world I cannot tell; 'Tis made, and here am I in hell. My hand, though now my knuckles bleed, I never soiled with such a deed.

Did I kill anyone?

‎It has ever been my fate to give pain to those whose happiness I should have promoted.

I cannot take the responsibility for the shedding a single drop of blood. I believe this bloodshed could have been avoided.

I broke my uncle's toy as a kid and never told him about it.

I always feel guilty later if I behave rudely with anyone.

The one time I shot a gun, the feelings I felt, I was guilty for feeling them. There is an exhilaration and a glamour, and I felt awful for feeling that.

Whenever my country has something bad happening I feel guilty for not being there. It's weird.

If you have ever clothed another with woe, as with a garment of pain, you will never be quite as happy as though you had not done that thing.

At the same time I know that it’s not really their fault, at least not completely. I did my part too. I did it on a hundred different days and in a thousand different ways, and I know it. But this makes the anger worse, not better.

You smell of other peoples blood, ma petite. It was no one you know. -Jean Claude and Anita

I felt a splinter of guilt wedge into my heart. Charlotte had hurt me; in return, I'd hurt Rob. Maybe that's what we do to the people we love: take shots in the dark and realize too late we've wounded the people we're trying to protect.

My heart bleeds for them when someone gets killed. But it’s their own fault at the end of the day.

I was a drug dealer, so I've killed a lot of people, with drugs. When you're a drug dealer and you see drugs to people and you get them addicted and three or four years later they get killed in a car wreck, I have to answer for that. So, I've hurt a lot of people and done a lot of bad things that I have to answer for.

A man, who can, in cold blood, hunt and torture a poor, innocent animal, cannot feel much compassion for the distress of his own species.

I tried to push him away with my head. I apologise to everyone. I should not have got involved in it.

If once we admit, be it for a single hour or in a single instance, that there can be anything more important than compassion for a fellow human being, then there is no crime against man that we cannot commit with an easy conscience.

There is not, perhaps, to a mind well instructed, a more painful occurrence, than the death of one we have injured without reparation.

Despite everything my mom and doctor and dad have said to me about blame, I can't stop thinking what I know. And I know that my aunt Helen would still be alive today if she just bought me one present like everybody else. She would be alive if I were born on a day that didn't snow.

Knowing cats, a lifetime of cats, what is left is a sediment of sorrow quite different from that due to humans: compounded of pain for their helplessness, of guilt on behalf of us all.

You cannot lay remorse upon the innocent nor lift it from the heart of the guilty. Unbidden shall it call in the night, that men may wake and gaze upon themselves.

This innocence begins to weigh me down.

One morning, in cool blood, I slipped a noose about its neck and hung it to the limb of a tree; — hung it with the tears streaming from my eyes, and with the bitterest remorse at my heart; — hung it because I knew that it had loved me, and because I felt it had given me no reason of offence; — hung it because I knew that in so doing I was committing a sin — a deadly sin that would so jeopardize my immortal soul as to place it — if such a thing were possible — even beyond the reach of the infinite mercy of the Most Merciful and Most Terrible God.