Because tragedy happened to you, it gives you a greater sense of oneness with others who experience tragedy. Because we have been comforted through the Word of God, we in turn may be able to comfort others.

When we are a comfort and encouragement to others, we are sometimes surprised at how it comes back to us many times over.

We don't have to be on the battlefields of the world to experience strife and conflict. We need only to open our eyes each morning and read the headlines, we need only to turn a keen ear when our phones ring with bad news, we need only to open our hearts to those next door—and maybe even in our own homes—to notice those with grieving hearts.

Grief turns us inward, but compassion turns us outward, and that's what we need when grief threatens to crush us. The Bible says, "Carry each other's burdens" [Galatians 6:2 NIV].

Never expect God to do for you what you don't do for others.

You can't hold a man down without staying down with him.

There are two ways of exerting one's strength; one is pushing down, the other is pulling up.

I began learning long ago that those who are happiest are those who do the most for others.

A race, like an individual, lifts itself up by lifting others up.

From his example in this respect I learned the lesson that great men cultivate love, and that only little men cherish a spirit of hatred. I learned that assistance given to the weak makes the one who gives it strong; and that oppression of the unfortunate makes one weak. It is now long ago that I learned this lesson from General Armstrong, and resolved that I would permit no man, no matter what his colour might be, to narrow and degrade my soul by making me hate him.

The one thing that is most worth living for—and dying for, if need be—is the opportunity of making some one else more happy and more useful.

From his example in this respect I learned the lesson that great man cultivate love, and that only little men cherish a spirit of hatred. I learned that assistance given to the weak makes the one who gives it strong; and that oppression of the unfortunate makes one weak.