Quotes About Regret

We never burned right.

Did all dying people feel this way, as if they had never lived?

He stood and he only had one leg. The other was like a chunk of burnt pine-log he was carrying along as a penance for some obscure sin.

and it was suddenly so very wrong that he had begun to cry, not at death but at the thought of not crying at death, a silly empty man near a silly empty woman, while the hungry snake made her still more empty. How

About this grass now. I didn't finish telling. It grows so close it's guaranteed to kill off clover and dandelions- Great God in heaven! That means no dandelion wine next year! That means no bees crossing our lot! You're out of your mind, son

We went right on insulting the dead. We went right on spitting on the graves of all the poor ones who died before us...and some day we'll remember so much that we'll build the biggest Goddamn steam-shovel in history and dig the biggest grave of all time and shove war in and cover it up

And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn't crying for him at all, but for the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again, . . .

That's life for you, said McDunn. Someone always waiting for someone who never comes home. Always someone loving some thing more than that thing loves them. And after a while you want to destroy whatever that thing is, so it can hurt you no more.

Watching the boys vanish away, Charles Halloway suppressed a sudden urge to run with them, make the pack. He knew what the wind was doing to them, where it was taking them, to all the secret places that were never so secret again in life. Somewhere in him, a shadow turned mournfully over. You had to run with a night like this, so the sadness could not hurt.

I wish I had known him, but he was just another shadow outside my screen door and I already had a sufficiency of shadows in.

Boy,' said Ralph, squinched up, balled up, feet against chest, eyes tight. 'England is no place to be a sinner.

And he remembered thinking then that if she died, he was certain he wouldn't cry. For it would be the dying of an unknown, a street face, a newspaper image, and it was suddenly so very wrong that he had begun to cry, not at death but at the thought of not crying at death, a silly empty man near a silly empty woman!!

Now, with the message sent, the words said, she wanted to call them back, to censor, to rearrange them, to make a prettier sentence, a fairer explanation of her soul.

The Murderer

But now, falling here, with everything over, I'm not jealous of you anymore, because it's over for you as it is for me, and right now it's like it never was.

Why, most men jump at the chance to give up everything for nothing. There's nothing we're so slapstick with as our own immortal souls.

I've been a fool all down the line. I can't stay long. I'm on my way God knows where." "At least you were a fool about the right things

He almost turned back to make the walk again, to give her time to appear. He was certain if he tried the same route, everything would work out fine. But it was late, and the arrival of his train put a stop to his plan.

Sou um dos inocentes que poderiam ter elevado a voz quando ninguém atentava para os culpados, mas não falei e, com isso, eu mesmo me tornei um dos culpados.

Et quand il est mort, je me suis aperçu que ce n'était pas lui que je pleurais, mais les choses qu'il faisait.

How do you get so empty? he wondered. Who takes it out of you? And that awful flower the other day, the dandelion! It had summed up everything, hadn't it? What a shame! You're not in love with anyone! And why not?

I see my grandfather there looking up at that strange drifting light, thinking his own still thoughts. I see me, my eyes filled with tears, because it was all over, the night was done, I knew there would never be another night like this.

Señor Montag, está usted ante un cobarde. Vi el camino que tomaban las cosas, hace tiempo. No dije nada. Soy un inocente que pudo haber hablado cuando nadie quería escuchar al «culpable»; pero no hablé, y me convertí así en otro culpable más. Y cuando al fin organizaron la quema de libros, con la ayuda de los bomberos, lancé unos gruñidos y callé. No había otros que gruñesen o gritasen conmigo. Ahora es tarde.

And I? thought Hollis. What can I do? Is there anything I can do now to make up for a terrible and empty life? If only I could do one good thing to make up for the meanness I collected all these years and didn't even know was in me! But there's no one here but myself, and how can you do good all alone? You can't. Tomorrow night I'll hit Earth's atmosphere.