Love thy neighbor is more than a divine truth. It is a pattern for perfection.
Neighbors bring food with death and flowers with sickness and little things in between. Boo was our neighbor. He gave us two soap dolls, a broken watch and chain, a pair of good-luck pennies, and our lives. But neighbors give in return. We never put back into the tree what we took out of it: we had given him nothing, and it made me sad.
Unless we endeavor to do good to our neighbor, through our cruelty we transgress this law
There is an idea abroad among moral people that they should make their neighbors good. One person I have to make good: Myself. But my duty to my neighbor is much more nearly expressed by saying that I have to make him happy if I may.
If you needed to borrow a cup of sugar, you knocked on your neighbour's door.
Well, the moral of the story, The moral of this song, Is simply that one should never be Where one does not belong. So when you see your neighbor carryin' somethin', Help him with his load, And don't go mistaking Paradise For that home across the road.
Kindness is a virtue neither modern nor urban. One almost unlearns it in a city. Towns have their own beatitude; they are not unfriendly; they offer a vast and solacing anonymity or an equally vast and solacing gregariousness. But one needs a neighbor on whom to practice compassion.
My parents were out of town and sent me to stay at my grandma's house. That's where I learned how to make pancakes. I served them to all the old ladies who lived on her block. After the meal, they each left a $5 bill next to their plates. I thought, 'Hey, I'm onto something here.'
My neighbour asked if he could use my lawnmower and I told him of course he could, so long as he didn't take it out of my garden.
When I think back, the neighbors were always sayin', 'Oh, that poor Julie, that poor orphan.' I loved it. The Italians would invite me in for dinner - it was an Italian neighborhood mostly. Oh, I loved it.
We had a guy, a gentlemen by the name of Mr. Greenleaf who lived behind the house we were shooting [Fences], and he was like a part of the movie.He would come downstairs, and he couldn't hear well to say, "Ya'll want some coffee?"
My boots were so heavy that I was glad there was a column beneath us. How could such a lonely person have been living so close to me my whole life? If I had known, I would have gone up to keep him company.
I sound like that old guy down the street that doesn't chase you out of his apple tree.
The house you live in will never fall down, if you pity the stranger who stands at your door.
See to whom Jesus is drawing near, three kinds of people: to those who make peace with him, to those who are devoted to God, and to those who are kind to their neighbors.
My car had broken down, and a neighbor of mine, this old guy, helped me change a tire. We just had a superdope, thoughtful conversation. And I realized, yo, this is rare. Like, this needs to happen more often.
I don't like giving a gift just to cross the person off my list. They don't have to be extravagant or expensive things, they can be simple. Just helping my neighbor hang his lights was a great gift for me to give. He was an older gentleman who was having trouble putting up his lights, and it made me feel good to be able to help him.
