Quotes About Regret

This journey is about ensuring that when we come to the end of our lives, we will arrive at our final moments with no regret.

For the rest of the day I was glad I listened instead of yelled, but I still burned with shame at the thought of what I almost said and at all the occasions I have spoken harshly.

Oscar Wilde wrote, "In this world there are only two tragedies. One is getting what one wants, and the other is not getting it." When

Sometimes I can feel my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living. —Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Adultery is often the revenge of the deserted possibilities.

I regret to say that we of the FBI are powerless to act in cases of oral-genital intimacy, unless it has in some way obstructed interstate commerce. —J. Edgar Hoover

In this world there are only two tragedies. One is getting what one wants, and the other is not getting it." When

Assassin! Misérable! Tu m'as tuée et maintenant tu ne veux pas que je m'empoisonne!

I've longed for fulfillment and all I find is torment. I had to choose between peace and passion. I chose passion, fool that I was!

On my solemn oath, Edmund, I'd gladly face not having an acre of land to call my own, nor a penny in the bank, I'd be willing to have no home but the poorhouse in my old age, if I could look back now on having been the fine artist I might have been.

You'll say to yourself, I'm just an old man who is scared of life, but even more scared of dying. So I'm keeping drunk and hanging on to life at any price, and what of it?

EDMUND: [...] A fost o mare greÈ™eal? c? m-am n?scut om. M-aÈ™ fi descurcat mai bine ca pesc?ruÈ™ ori peÈ™te. AÈ™a, o s? fiu mereu un str?in care nu se simte niciodat? în largul lui, care nu doreÈ™te cu adev?rat È™i nu e dorit cu adev?rat, care nu poate s?-È™i g?seasc? niciodat? locul È™i care trebuie s? fie tot timpul un pic indr?gostit de moarte. (Eugene O'Neill - Lungul drum al zilei c?tre noapte)

He recites sardonically from Rossetti. "Look in my face. My name is Might-Have-Been; I am also called No More, Too Late, Farewell.

I'm sorry I remembered out loud.

You're lying to yourself again. You wanted to get rid of them. Their contempt and disgust aren't pleasant company. You're glad they're gone.

An apology is also an admission of guilt

You see.. I have this book. Within the pages of this book are things that I should've told you. I call this book "Hesitation".

Most people have to die to get to Hell. I took a shortcut.

Always afraid of making mistakes, always afraid of making wrong decisions, always trying to be perfect; fact is no one is perfect, and the best lessons derive from the mistakes and the wrong decisions we make. Don't be afraid of mistakes, and never regret the decisions you make; use them as a life lesson, and build on them.

It's easy to lose yourself here," he said. "If only," she said, and laughed, vying with the wind, trying to keep the hair out of her eyes. It had copper strands, he could see now, that bright hair. It seemed to hold the only light in the dusk of the day. "If only." He nodded. If only. And then they parted.

I was mad that I couldn't enjoy it, that I'd made it impossible for myself to have a nice vacation.

When they're alive, it's easy to see the flaws. When they're gone, you tend to notice only the hole in the Earth that they left.

Guilty like a chastised dog sitting in the corner, not because he knows taking food from the table is bad, but because he's done something inappropriate he doesn't understand.

The visit, like all visits home for a long time now, has been an obscure failure. When is it we cease to be able to go back, truly go back? What secret door is it that closes?