Quotes About Regret

Like life is short," he said. "Like you don't know when it's going to end. Like some things, left unsaid, can't ever be said.

Empty night, Harry. Didn't your little adventure in the lake teach you a damned thing? I scowled some more. Like what? Like life is short, he [Thomas] said. Like you don't know when it's going to end. Like some things, left unsaid, can't ever be said.

Sometimes I thought it might be nice not to make any choices. If I never had one, I could never screw it up.

Love you. That should have been simple enough to say. But the words stuck hard in my throat. I'd never said them to anyone I didn't lose

Good Lord, I'm regretting this now, I muttered. I have never - ever - smelled BO this bad in my life . And I once had s'mores wit a Sasquatch. Hang out with him for awhile, Mort gasped. Eventually it's not so bad. Wow. Really? No. Not really.

And it was all your fault, Harry.

It's easy to see what choices one should have made after it is too late to go back.

Just remember, Harry, I told you this was a bad idea." "Preemptive I-told-you-sos," I said. "Now I've seen everything.

I snorted. "They still make you read Dickens in school? Great Expectations?" "Yeah." "You can stay at home and hide if you want—and wind up like Miss Havisham," I said. "Watching life through a window and obsessed with how things might have been." "Dear God," she said. "You've just made Dickens relevant to my life." "Weird, right?" I asked her, nodding.

What do you do to make up for failing everyone in your life? How do you make it right? How do you apologize for hideous things you never intended to happen?

Later. Bad habit to get into," Thomas said. "Life's too short.

Maybe I should have listened to Murphy. Maybe I should have stayed home and played with some nice, safe, forbidden black magic instead.

Just like old times," I wheezed. "Yeah, just like old times, Elaine. You backbiting, poisonous, treacherous . . ." And then a thought hit me. Just like old times. ". . . deceitful, wicked, clever girl. If this works I'll buy you a pony.

Hell's bells," I muttered. "Harry, you idiot, when will you learn not to victory gloat?

I know I've screwed up," I said. "I'm going to have to live with that. But I don't want to lose you.

What could I do? What do you do to make up for failing everyone in your life? How do you make it right? How do you apologize for hideous things you never intended to happen?

I wanted to kick myself. Somewhere out there was a village I'd deprived of its idiot.

The Queen closed her eye and nodded. She opened it again, and there was a tear tracking down her face. "I tried to be what I was meant to be, Father. It was never personal.

They say screwy things, make odd choices which, in retrospect, they feel amazingly foolish for making.

The words never again mean more to some people than others.

And I . . . I used the knife. I saved a child. I won a war. God forgive me.

The prodigal son has been welcomed home with open arms." "Really?" "Well," Thomas amended, "with reluctant, irritated arms, anyway.

Damn," I mumbled, looking back at the spreading fires. "I'm kinda hard on buildings.

Everyone dies, honey," I said, very quietly. "Everyone. There's no 'if.' There's only 'when.' " I let that sink in for a moment. "When you die, do you want to feel ashamed of what you've done with your life? Feel ashamed of what your life meant?