Highly Sensitive People Quotes

“As empaths, our high level of sensitivity means that we are prone to feeling like eternal outsiders who are in the world but not quite of the world.”
― Aletheia Luna, Awakened Empath: The Ultimate Guide to Emotional, Psychological and Spiritual Healing

“Create boundaries. Honor your limits. Say no. Take a break. Let go. Stay grounded. Nurture your body. Love your vulnerability. And if all else fails, breathe deeply.”
― Aletheia Luna, Awakened Empath: The Ultimate Guide to Emotional, Psychological and Spiritual Healing

“One of the easiest ways to discover if someone is compatible with you is to gauge their emotional intelligence. Are they a kind and sensitive person? Will they be respectful towards your sensitivities? Or, are they emotionally stunted? Remember, we tend to attract narcissistic types who lack empathy.”
― Aletheia Luna, Awakened Empath: The Ultimate Guide to Emotional, Psychological and Spiritual Healing

“Why is sensitivity perceived as being dangerous? When we’re sensitive, we feel things we were taught not to feel. When we’re sensitive, we are completely open to attack. When we’re sensitive, we are awake and in touch with our hearts – and this can be very threatening to the status quo indeed.”
― Aletheia Luna, Awakened Empath: The Ultimate Guide to Emotional, Psychological and Spiritual Healing

“Dear empath:

You are a being of immense depth, wisdom, and compassion. You are a pioneer and trailblazer of humanity, a model for others on how to be sensitive and powerful. All the strength and love you need is already within you, waiting to be discovered.”
― Mateo Sol, Awakened Empath: The Ultimate Guide to Emotional, Psychological and Spiritual Healing

“And so, even though she was loving by nature, as time passed, she craved solitude more and more, due to the tortures of her sensitive heart.”
― John Mark Green, She Had a Very Inconvenient Heart: A Tale of Love and Magic

“To become a skilled as an empath, you don't need to show the world anything. Empath Empowerment isn't about personal image, like whether or not you dress with attitude. Being skilled as an empath doesn't hinge on social choices of any kind.”
― Rose Rosetree, Empath Empowerment in 30 Days

“Never underestimate the empowered empath. Our kindness and compassion is too often mistaken for weakness or naivety, while we are in fact highly calibrated human lie detectors...and fearless warriors for truth and justice.”
― Anthon St. Maarten

“HSPs do more of that which makes humans different from other animals: We imagine possibilities. We humans, and HSPs especially, are acutely aware of the past and future.”
― Elaine N. Aron, The Highly Sensitive Person: How to Thrive When the World Overwhelms You

“Empaths, you can do better. What you need is skill. The kind of skill that positions your flexible empath’s consciousness to support you better.”
― Rose Rosetree, Empath Empowerment in 30 Days

“Many empaths try approaches that don’t work. And can’t work. Like constantly monitoring your energies. Or scaling down your activities – and ambitions. (As if you’ve got some kind of energetic disability and must learn to resign yourself.) Ridiculous!

Empaths, you can do better. What you need is skill. The kind of skill that positions your flexible empath’s consciousness to support you better.”
― Rose Rosetree, Empath Empowerment in 30 Days

“Empathy is my good friend, but she doesn’t allow me to be angry.”
― Yong Kang Chan, The Emotional Gift: Memoir of a Highly Sensitive Person Who Overcame Depression

“Anger tried to help me feel better about myself by pushing the blame onto someone else.”
― Yong Kang Chan, The Emotional Gift: Memoir of a Highly Sensitive Person Who Overcame Depression

“Blocking our feelings and pretending they aren’t there doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
― Yong Kang Chan, The Emotional Gift: Memoir of a Highly Sensitive Person Who Overcame Depression

“Now, more than ever, our society is in need of sensitive and empathic people. Now, more than ever, the human race needs to go inwards and connect with the Soul again. As natural born healers, intuitives, and mentors, it is not only our responsibility but also our destiny to help humanity heal.”
― Aletheia Luna, Awakened Empath: The Ultimate Guide to Emotional, Psychological and Spiritual Healing

“Some people are capable of giving so much more love, so much more warmth, so much more generosity and affection. It's hard to be those people. Nobody can meet you there, in that place, where you radiate with sunlight. Who can love the Sun, the way that it loves the Earth?”
― C. JoyBell C.

“I mistakenly believed that I was my emotions.”
― Yong Kang Chan, The Emotional Gift: Memoir of a Highly Sensitive Person Who Overcame Depression

“We are the Cassandras of our world, gifted with highly sensitive bodies that are feeling what the System would have us ignore. We have been taught to distrust our own body systems, to distrust our inner knowing, to silence ourselves, to hand over their care and definition to the experts. We have grown up seeing the women around us consistently disempowered, sick in body, or soul, heart or mind. Having their suffering dismissed, in big ways and small. Having their physical and emotional needs unrecognised and unmet for generations. We have grown up feeling alienated in our bodies, embarrassed or ashamed of them: not at home in our physical selves.
We have internalised the message that there’s something wrong with us, rather than there is something wrong. And so we have silenced ourselves, blamed ourselves, punished ourselves.”
― Lucy H. Pearce, Medicine Woman: Reclaiming the Soul of Healing

“Some people are the Sun. They radiate warmth and light just because they're filled with that fire. The Sun must feel sad, sometimes, when nothing can do the same for it. Because all around are cold stars, dark planets, nothing is as warm.”
― C. JoyBell C.

“I am one of those creatures that can swim in the dark ocean but also walk on the sunny shore. Feeling everything very deeply but also able to become incredibly shallow when needed. Swim in the ocean, wade at the shoreline. Both are familiar spaces. But the nightmare is found in the fact that both these spaces are felt very deeply: everything is indeed everything; but then nothing is also everything! To feel nothing is still EVERYTHING. But I know it's not just me, I know there are others... some of us feel everything in everything; but also in nothing at all. Even in absolute silence there is a scream that only we can hear.”
― C. JoyBell C.

“The word “empath” jumped up in my awareness a few years after I had already been in the States. When I first came across it, it felt so woo-woo and new-agey that the “normal” part of me balked at it. It was hard enough to own being a Highly Sensitive Person, words that had research backing them. But this empath thing, this was taking it even a step further. It veered off into ambiguous, questionable territory.  In fact, when I had first stumbled across the word online, trying to find a way to understand a part of my sensitivity that being an HSP didn’t quite encapsulate, I hadn’t even thought that it could possibly have anything to do with me. But the more I listened to other people’s stories, the more I followed the breadcrumbs, the more it started feeling that although the words that people used to describe their empath experiences were foreign, what they were talking about was essentially my own experience. It was just that some of these people connected that experience to belief systems I didn’t always resonate with while some others wrapped up the word in explanations that felt like the making up of a false story. But slowly, I could see that at the heart of it, beyond the cloak of words, beyond the different interpretations that people gave, our experiences felt similar. Like these so-called empaths, I often felt flooded with other people’s feelings. Their curiosity, worry and frustration jumped out at me. This often made me feel like I was walking through emotional minefields or collecting new feelings like you would collect scraps of paper. Going back to India after moving to the States, each time, I was stuck by how much all the little daily interactions, packed tightly in one day, which were part of my parents’ Delhi household, affected me energetically. Living in suburban America, I had often found the quiet too much. Then, I had thought nostalgically about India. Weeks could pass here without anyone so much as ringing the bell to our house. But it seemed like I had conveniently forgotten the other side of the story, forgotten how overstimulating Delhi had always been for me.  There was, of course, the familiar sensory overload all around -- the continuous honking of horns, the laborers working noisily in the house next door, the continuous ringing of the bell as different people came and went -- the dhobi taking the clothes for ironing, the koodawalla come to pick up the daily trash, the delivery boy delivering groceries from the neighborhood kiraana store. But apart from these interruptions, inconveniences and overstimulations, there was also something more. In Delhi, every day, more lives touched mine in a day than they did in weeks in America. Going back, I could see, clearly for the first time, how much this sensory overload cost me and how much other people’s feelings leaked into mine, so much so that I almost felt them in my body. I could see that the koodawalla, the one I had always liked, the one from some kind of a “lower caste,” had changed in these past few years. He was angry now, unlike the calm resignation, almost acceptance he had carried inside him before. His anger seemed to jump out at me, as if he thought I was part of a whole tribe of people who had kept people like him down for years, who had relegated him to this lower caste, who had only given him the permission to do “dirty,” degrading work, like collecting the trash.”
― Ritu Kaushal, The Empath's Journey: What Working with My Dreams, Moving to a Different Country and L

“The word “empath” jumped up in my awareness a few years after I had already been in the States. When I first came across it, it felt so woo-woo and new-agey that the “normal” part of me balked at it. It was hard enough to own being a Highly Sensitive Person, words that had research backing them. But this empath thing, this was taking it even a step further. It veered off into ambiguous, questionable territory. In fact, when I had first stumbled across the word online, trying to find a way to understand a part of my sensitivity that being an HSP didn’t quite encapsulate, I hadn’t even thought that it could possibly have anything to do with me. But the more I listened to other people’s stories, the more I followed the breadcrumbs, the more it started feeling that although the words that people used to describe their empath experiences were foreign, what they were talking about was essentially my own experience. It was just that some of these people connected that experience to belief systems I didn’t always resonate with while some others wrapped up the word in explanations that felt like the making up of a false story. But slowly, I could see that at the heart of it, beyond the cloak of words, beyond the different interpretations that people gave, our experiences felt similar. Like these so-called empaths, I often felt flooded with other people’s feelings. Their curiosity, worry and frustration jumped out at me. This often made me feel like I was walking through emotional minefields or collecting new feelings like you would collect scraps of paper. Going back to India after moving to the States, each time, I was stuck by how much all the little daily interactions, packed tightly in one day, which were part of my parents’ Delhi household, affected me energetically. Living in suburban America, I had often found the quiet too much. Then, I had thought nostalgically about India. Weeks could pass here without anyone so much as ringing the bell to our house. But it seemed like I had conveniently forgotten the other side of the story, forgotten how overstimulating Delhi had always been for me. There was, of course, the familiar sensory overload all around -- the continuous honking of horns, the laborers working noisily in the house next door, the continuous ringing of the bell as different people came and went -- the dhobi taking the clothes for ironing, the koodawalla come to pick up the daily trash, the delivery boy delivering groceries from the neighborhood kiraana store. But apart from these interruptions, inconveniences and overstimulations, there was also something more. In Delhi, every day, more lives touched mine in a day than they did in weeks in America. Going back, I could see, clearly for the first time, how much this sensory overload cost me and how much other people’s feelings leaked into mine, so much so that I almost felt them in my body. I could see that the koodawalla, the one I had always liked, the one from some kind of a “lower caste,” had changed in these past few years. He was angry now, unlike the calm resignation, almost acceptance he had carried inside him before. His anger seemed to jump out at me, as if he thought I was part of a whole tribe of people who had kept people like him down for years, who had relegated him to this lower caste, who had only given him the permission to do “dirty,” degrading work, like collecting the trash.”
― Ritu Kaushal, The Empath's Journey

“I feel everything, as lightning feels the tip of the Earth when it strikes; or the way that ocean feels a small shell within it: all at once and wrapped around completely. I feel, not in the ways that they feel, but, in the ways that I feel. All at once and wrapped around completely. Lightning and Ocean. This is my heart.

What do you think it's like, for the ocean, when men throw rocks into her? Or trash into her? Ocean wraps tons of weight in her heart around even the tiniest rock, or the tiniest bit of trash, while they just stand there. And what do you think it's like for lightning? She breaks open skies because nothing fits inside anymore, while they just stand there naming her 'terrifying' and 'difficult'.”
― C. JoyBell C., The Conversation of Immortals

“Every empath must ultimately face a life-defining choice: survive or thrive.”
― Anthon St. Maarten

“The word “empath” jumped up in my awareness a few years after I had already been in the States. When I first came across it, it felt so woo-woo and new-agey that the “normal” part of me balked at it. It was hard enough to own being a Highly Sensitive Person, words that had research backing them. But this empath thing, this was taking it even a step further. It veered off into ambiguous, questionable territory. In fact, when I had first stumbled across the word online, trying to find a way to understand a part of my sensitivity that being an HSP didn’t quite encapsulate, I hadn’t even thought that it could possibly have anything to do with me. But the more I listened to other people’s stories, the more I followed the breadcrumbs, the more it started feeling that although the words that people used to describe their empath experiences were foreign, what they were talking about was essentially my own experience. It was just that some of these people connected that experience to belief systems I didn’t always resonate with while some others wrapped up the word in explanations that felt like the making up of a false story. But slowly, I could see that at the heart of it, beyond the cloak of words, beyond the different interpretations that people gave, our experiences felt similar. Like these so-called empaths, I often felt flooded with other people’s feelings. Their curiosity, worry and frustration jumped out at me. This often made me feel like I was walking through emotional minefields or collecting new feelings like you would collect scraps of paper. Going back to India after moving to the States, each time, I was stuck by how much all the little daily interactions, packed tightly in one day, which were part of my parents’ Delhi household, affected me energetically. Living in suburban America, I had often found the quiet too much. Then, I had thought nostalgically about India. Weeks could pass here without anyone so much as ringing the bell to our house. But it seemed like I had conveniently forgotten the other side of the story, forgotten how overstimulating Delhi had always been for me. There was, of course, the familiar sensory overload all around -- the continuous honking of horns, the laborers working noisily in the house next door, the continuous ringing of the bell as different people came and went -- the dhobi taking the clothes for ironing, the koodawalla come to pick up the daily trash, the delivery boy delivering groceries from the neighborhood kiraana store. But apart from these interruptions, inconveniences and overstimulations, there was also something more. In Delhi, every day, more lives touched mine in a day than they did in weeks in America. Going back, I could see, clearly for the first time, how much this sensory overload cost me and how much other people’s feelings leaked into mine, so much so that I almost felt them in my body. I could see that the koodawalla, the one I had always liked, the one from some kind of a “lower caste,” had changed in these past few years. He was angry now, unlike the calm resignation, almost acceptance he had carried inside him before. His anger seemed to jump out at me, as if he thought I was part of a whole tribe of people who had kept people like him down for years, who had relegated him to this lower caste, who had only given him the permission to do “dirty,” degrading work, like collecting the trash.”
― Ritu Kaushal: The Empath's Journey: What Working with My Dreams, Moving to a Different Country and L

“The word “empath” jumped up in my awareness a few years after I had already been in the States. When I first came across it, it felt so woo-woo and new-agey that the “normal” part of me balked at it. It was hard enough to own being a Highly Sensitive Person, words that had research backing them. But this empath thing, this was taking it even a step further. It veered off into ambiguous, questionable territory. In fact, when I had first stumbled across the word online, trying to find a way to understand a part of my sensitivity that being an HSP didn’t quite encapsulate, I hadn’t even thought that it could possibly have anything to do with me. But the more I listened to other people’s stories, the more I followed the breadcrumbs, the more it started feeling that although the words that people used to describe their empath experiences were foreign, what they were talking about was essentially my own experience. It was just that some of these people connected that experience to belief systems I didn’t always resonate with while some others wrapped up the word in explanations that felt like the making up of a false story. But slowly, I could see that at the heart of it, beyond the cloak of words, beyond the different interpretations that people gave, our experiences felt similar. Like these so-called empaths, I often felt flooded with other people’s feelings. Their curiosity, worry and frustration jumped out at me. This often made me feel like I was walking through emotional minefields or collecting new feelings like you would collect scraps of paper. Going back to India after moving to the States, each time, I was stuck by how much all the little daily interactions, packed tightly in one day, which were part of my parents’ Delhi household, affected me energetically. Living in suburban America, I had often found the quiet too much. Then, I had thought nostalgically about India. Weeks could pass here without anyone so much as ringing the bell to our house. But it seemed like I had conveniently forgotten the other side of the story, forgotten how overstimulating Delhi had always been for me. There was, of course, the familiar sensory overload all around -- the continuous honking of horns, the laborers working noisily in the house next door, the continuous ringing of the bell as different people came and went -- the dhobi taking the clothes for ironing, the koodawalla come to pick up the daily trash, the delivery boy delivering groceries from the neighborhood kiraana store. But apart from these interruptions, inconveniences and overstimulations, there was also something more. In Delhi, every day, more lives touched mine in a day than they did in weeks in America. Going back, I could see, clearly for the first time, how much this sensory overload cost me and how much other people’s feelings leaked into mine, so much so that I almost felt them in my body. I could see that the koodawalla, the one I had always liked, the one from some kind of a “lower caste,” had changed in these past few years. He was angry now, unlike the calm resignation, almost acceptance he had carried inside him before. His anger seemed to jump out at me, as if he thought I was part of a whole tribe of people who had kept people like him down for years, who had relegated him to this lower caste, who had only given him the permission to do “dirty,” degrading work, like collecting the trash.”
― Ritu Kaushal, The Empath's Journey: What Working with My Dreams, Moving to a Different Country and L

“Forgive yourself for the mask you wore when you didn't feel safe enough to be yourself.”
― Ash Alves, Highly Sensitive Warrior: Self-empowerment Reminders for Highly Sensitive People

“Returning back to self is a daily, intentional act. The world will attempt to pull you in many different directions. You've got to choose to return to your core every single day.”
― Ash Alves

“You feel the spirit in all things - the birds, trees, people, places and objects. You are tapped into the universal law of oneness. You are connected to something greater than this material world. Highly sensitive people are the chosen ones, here to help reconnect humanity to our spiritual beingness.”
― Ash Alves

“Wear your sensitivities like a badge of honour. It's what makes you special.”
― Ash Alves, Highly Sensitive Warrior: Self-empowerment Reminders for Highly Sensitive People