Quotes About Regret

Ce qu'il attendait de Daisy? Qu'elle aille trouver Tom et lui dise: Je ne t'ai jamais aimé. Rien de moins. Ayant ainsi, d'une seule phrase, réduit trois années de sa vie à néant.

Il est possible que Daisy n'ait jamais rencontré l'amour — bien qu'il y ait dans sa voix, sa vraie voix je veux dire, quelque chose qui... [...] Il y a six semaines, et pour la première fois depuis des années, elle a entendu prononcer le nom de Gatsby. [...] Alors de cette voix, justement, sa vraie voix, elle a dit que c'était sans doute celui qu'elle avait connu autrefois.

Il regarda autour de lui avec une brusque violence, comme si le passé était là, tapi dans l'ombre de la maison, mais hors de portée. — Je ferais tout pour que les choses soient comme avant. Exactement comme avant.

American men," said Nancy gravely, "don't know how to drink." "What?" Jim was startled. "In fact," she went on carelessly, "they don't know how to do anything very well. The one thing I regret in my life is that I wasn't born in England." "In England?" "Yes. It's the one regret of my life that I wasn't.

She looks at him once more, with infinite longing, infinite sadness.

There was no God in his heart, he knew; his ideas were still in riot; there was ever the pain of memory; the regret for his lost youth--yet the waters of disillusion had left a deposit on his soul, responsibility and a love of life, the faint stirring of old ambitions and unrealized dreams...I know myself, he cried, but that is all.

Désolé et furieux, encore amoureux d'elle, j'ai tourné le dos.

He stretched out his had desperately as if to snatch only a wisp of air, to save a fragment of the spot that she (Daisy) had made lovely for him. But it was all going by too fast now for his blurred eyes and he knew that he had lost that part of it, the freshest and the best, forever.

I wouldn't ask too much of her, I ventured. You can't change the past. Can't change the past? he cried incredulously. Why of course you can!

I wish I was in print. It will be odd a year or so from now when Scottie assures her friends I was an author and finds that no book is procurable.

It's just that I feel so sad these wonderful nights. I sort of feel they're never coming again, and I'm not really getting all I could out of them.

She didn't answer. Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away.

By the way, Boots died and Opal says she hopes you're satisfied.

The little girl knew if she bit any member of her family, they would get rabies too, and she died without ever having been petted. I cried so hard Mrs. Underwood had to take me to the school nurse.

Mildred had had a few men friends after that, but she never really loved any of them. None could ever compete with the one that got away.

It is the memory of past happiness that makes the present so intolerable.

If that was dying, I don't want to do it again.

have to tell you, though, I'd do it again.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines! Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

Then I feel ashamed because I know how much she loves me. It's the excess that

O resto é a vida que nos deixa, a chama que morre no nosso olhar, a púrpura gasta antes de a vestirmos, a lua que vela o nosso abandono, as estrelas que estendem o seu silêncio sobre a nossa hora de desengano. Assídua a mágoa estéril e amiga que nos aperta o peito com amor. (Meu destino é a decadência)

We know that the book we will never write will be bad. Even worse will be the one we put off writing. At least the book that has been written exists.

There were people who loved me, There were people I loved. Today I blushed Because of who I once was. I felt ashamed Of being, here and now, The one who always dreams And never steps out, Ashamed of realizing That I can have no more Than this dream of what I could have been - before. 6 August 1934

Chove. Que fiz eu da vida? Fiz o que ela fez de mim... De pensada, mal vivida... Triste de quem é assim!