Quotes About Regret

I remember telling the 'Tangled' crew about grimace moments: how when you watch a movie that you worked on and you think, 'Ah, I wish we could have done that scene better,' or, 'I wish that we'd had the time or the money to fix that particular story problem.'

If I were going to prom again, I would wear a huge skirt and plain cotton tank. A big, poofy, flotation-device-sized skirt. I wish I had done that.

You might come here Sunday on a whim. Say your life broke down. The last good kiss you had was years ago. You walk these streets laid out by the insane, past hotels that didn't last, bars that did, the tortured try of local drivers to accelerate their lives. Only churches are kept up. The jail turned 70 this year. The only prisoner is always in, not knowing what he's done.

how do we experience a contrite heart? a grieving, broken, sorrowing, repentant heart?

Is there any way we can purely touch the world again, the way a salamander does, breathing through its skin? Can we become the strands of this shrine we weave ourselves into hoping to emerge into a world where—where what? There is no end to desire, which means no end to regret, no end to our need for an ending, so that even the sky refuses our touch, that sky which, at its bluest, is the most empty.

I always look for a woman who has a tattoo. I see a woman with a tattoo, and I'm thinking, okay, here's a gal who's capable of making a decision she'll regret in the future.

See? Even dead she makes me a better whatever-the-hell it is I am. A less stupid person. A more considerate monster.

You were a prick and a crook, but no one deserves to go out the way you went. I hope it was over quick and that you tasted like ass all the way down. Amen.

You're quite the humanitarian. By the way, thanks a fuck of a lot for leaving me off your who-to-save list. You're on it, Alfredo Garcia. I just didn't want to say it out loud and have you call me Nancy or Tinker Bell. Yeah, I would have done that.

I wish I could say, "No more Mr. Nice Guy," but the boat sailed on that one a long time ago.

Oh God, look what you did." "God's away on business, Kas. Talk to me.

Do you even know what death is, Tom?" I say. "It's dumb, and it's loud, and it smells bad; you're in Hell and you want to die to get away from it all, but you're already dead and there's nowhere to go. And what's worse is you know you're there because you deserve it, because you're such a fucking waste of skin and gristle. So no, I don't want to die. It's no fun and there's too many people like you there.

Thanks, but sometimes I think my sins are the only thing holding me together

Shit," Jonny mumbled as he stepped on something soft and clinging in the doorway of the abandoned hotel. Then "Shit" again as he recognized the accuracy of his curse.

I look at her bandaged hands. "You all right?" "Just a couple of blisters. Some asshole convinced me to run through a furnace." "He sounds shady. As your lawyer, I advise you to avoid him in the future." "It's my fondest dream.

You killed Buzzy." "Yeah. I'm sorry." "Don't be sorry. I'm glad you did it.

Fuck my old self. My old self got his life stolen by morons and the person he cared about most killed. If I start turning into that asshole again, I'll peel these scars off myself and put a shotgun to my forehead.

Instead they're crying like a school bus full of little French girls whose ice cream all melted.

Maybe I should have kept my rock. At least I wouldn't look quite so much like a deer caught in the headlights. No. I'd look like a deer with a rock. Forget it. We

Did I hurt your feelings again? Sorry. When this is all over I'll send some flowers to your inner child.

Memory is a wonderful thing if you don't have to deal with the past.

How can there be fury felt for things that are gone to dust.

There is a fool you feel when somebody is saying they are sorry for doing something to you. It is worse than if you had done something yourself. So you are having the worst of it twice, start and finish.

I am only sorry that we were not allowed to shake the judge's hand, and then dance on the desks.