Quotes About Regret

It would have been better far for men To have got their children in some other way, and women Not to have existed. Then life would have been good. CHORUS

Thracian. The army lost and the king slain, Stabbed in the dark! Ah, pain! pain! This deep raw wound . . . Oh, let me die By thy side, Master, by thy side! In shame together let us lie Who came to save, and failed and died.

What profit was it to live on, Friend, with my grief kept and mine honour gone?

Blood-guilty wretch

Çekinme, hat?rlama ne kadar çok sevdiÄŸini ve nas?l doÄŸurduÄŸunu çocuklar?n?. Bugün, sadece bugün unut, sonra tutars?n yaslar?n?. ÖldürmüÅŸ de olsan çok sevmiÅŸtin onlar? ve mutsuz bir kad?ns?n ÅŸimdi.

Tanr?lar?n tan?kl???na baÅŸvuruyorum, çocuklar?m? öldürdüÄŸün yetmiyormuÅŸ gibi, onlara dokunmama ve cenazelerini kald?rmama da izin vermiyorsun. Ah, keÅŸke hiç doÄŸmasalard? ve hiç görmeseydim bu ÅŸekilde vahÅŸice öldürüldüklerini.

I say; [136] for a man who dies from among his household is regretted, but a woman is of little account.

One moment, one short moment - and forever sorrow.

Muse. I say to thee: Curse Odysseus, And cursèd be Diomede! For they made me childless, and forlorn for ever, of the flower of sons. Yea, curse Helen, who left the houses of Hellas. She knew her lover, she feared not the ships and sea. She called thee, called thee, to die for the sake of Paris, Belovèd, and a thousand cities She made empty of good men.

Short is the joy that guilty pleasure brings.

Upon my knees i say 'You used me' And I feel dirty from your touch

I shall weep for you—not just one year but as long as life shall last. Yes, my love, forever. And I'll hate her who gave me birth, and curse my father. Their love was only words; but you, you gave me the most precious thing you had, to save my life. The loss—the loss of one like you— how can I not cry out in pain?

I don't want to die, he thought. I haven't lived yet.

He did not fail in love, but he lost the joy of it [...]

Sebastian is in love with his own childhood. That will make him very unhappy.

Just the place to bury a crock of gold,' said Sebastian. 'I should like to bury something precious in every place where I've been happy and then, when I was old and ugly and miserable, I could come back and dig it up and remember.

It's awful to think that I shall probably never, as long as I live, see you dancing like that again all by yourself.

My father greeted me with his usual air of mild regret.

So you never got to wherever it was. Weren't you terribly disappointed, Sebastian? --Julia Flyte

Too late, old boy, too late. The saddest words in the English language.

It's frightening, Julia once said, to think how completely you have forgotten Sebastian. He was the forerunner. That's what you said in the storm. I've thought since: perhaps I am only a forerunner, too.

You killed your grandfather, Erik?' 'Yes, did you not know? I thought it was well known. I was very young at the time and had taken a lot of sixty per cent. It was with a chopper.

Yes I am poor man. When I was very young I used often to be drunk. Now it is very seldom. Once or two times in the year. But always I do something I am very sorry for. I think perhaps I shall get drunk tonight," he suggested, brightening.

How ungenerously in later life we disclaim the virtuous moods of our youth