Quotes About Regret

hasta convertirse finalmente en una reminiscencia amarga, un sueño que, por decoro, por vergüenza torera, era mejor no recordar.

Y ese ruido? ¡¿No habrás roto la cajita de música?! -¿Cuál? -La que te regaló la abuela, no la habrás roto, ¿no? -Total no era linda. -¡¿Como era?! ¿La rompiste? Te mato, Natacha, abrí la puerta.

Você está atormentado por uma coisa que aconteceu quando você tinha doze anos? — Essas são as coisas que realmente nos atormentam. As outras são apenas problemas.

I can no longer cry. I groan a few times. Through the slits that are my eyes, I stare at my shoes, at the gray swirls of the concrete floor, at the bright orange lid of my syringe. And I realize—it's a kind of horror—that this is my life. And I can't stop. I just can't stop. I can't stop anymore.

If I could find someone to blame, perhaps I could get angry. Anything would be better than this sadness, this sense of regret for events that were never mine.

Watching football is like watching pornography. There's plenty of action, and I can't take my eyes off it, but when it's over, I wonder why the hell I spent an afternoon doing it.

The salient point about remorse, however, is that it matters little whether it is genuine or not. Clients who get very sorry after acts of abuse change at about the same rate as the ones who don't. The most regretful are sometimes the most self-centered, lamenting above all the injury they've done to their own self-image. They feel ashamed of having behaved like cruel dictators and want to revert quickly to the role of benign dictators, as if that somehow makes them much better people.

Are you sorry? Do you wish you could do it all again and go off and write novels instead of being a teacher? No. You can't trade what is for what might have been.

Ursula is something I will never feel again: she is Melancholy, cut into the soul and flesh.

All my life I have been trying to improve my German. At last my German is better —but now I am old and ill and don't have long to live. Soon I will be dead, with better German.

How can she eat this fish, cooling on a slab of marble? And yet the fish, too, motionless as it is, and dismantled from its bones, and fleeced of its silver skin, has never been so completely alone as it is now: violated in a final manner and regarded with a weary eye by this woman who has made the latest mistake of her day and done this to it.

So the question really is, Why doesn't that pain make you say, I won't do it again? When the pain is so bad that you have to say that, but you don't.

When we ran, if we chose to, we ran like flashes of silk. We had the vigor of those freshly born. Relatively speaking. And no, we wouldn't be like this forever. We knew it, on a rational level. But the idea that those garbage-like figures that tottered around the great house were a vision of what lay in store—hell no. Had they had goals once? A simple sense of self-respect? They shamed us. They were a cautionary tale.

Tinha um velho que morreu agarrando o pinto, acho que ficou com medo da morte, o pobrezinho, tanto medo e na hora do medo agarrou o pinto. Foi enterrado assim.

E se a vida estiver lá fora, naquelas vozes que desdenhei? E se o desvio da minha rota foi exatamente esse que escolhi? Mas haverá ainda tempo?

What a sad world sin had caused.

All I have I would have given gladly not to be standing here today.

It strikes me that moments like these abound. At every turn, there is always n opportunity to say yes or no. To smile or stare straight ahead. To connect or pass by barely rubbing shoulders. One day we may wake up and wonder why we said no way Jose, why we stared straight ahead, why we passed up the chance for love, or ever 'like.' Why indeed? Because it seems like the right idea at the time.

What if the kid you bullied at school, grew up, and turned out to be the only surgeon who could save your life?

Until one day I realized that regret from the past was keeping me from living well in the present. And it was robbing me of a future.

God had told the survivors of Sodom and Gomorrah not to look back after they'd been rescued from death and destruction, and if Jo's family continued to gaze into the past, they were going to become stuck in place like pillars of salt, too.

regret from the past was keeping me from living well in the present. And it was robbing me of a future.

No, Engelena. Don't blame yourself. Adam and Eve had a perfect parent, yet they rebelled.

She loved him, and her heart was breaking. If she had known how much it hurt to love someone, she never would have given away her heart. But it wasn't a question of giving as much as falling.