Quotes About Regret

It's a crime, when you think about how little time we get, that a man should ever be bored. When you're lying on your deathbed, I expect you regret those weeks wasted more than your worst mistakes.

Nadie tiene mucho tiempo, y el tiempo que pasas compadeciéndote es tiempo perdido.

Aye, well, I've said a lot of shit in my time that didn't add up to much.

You could not even guess at the things that I have done. Awful, evil, obscene. The telling of them alone would make you puke. They nag at me from time to time, but I tell myself I had good reasons. The years pass, the unimaginable becomes everyday, the hideous becomes tedious, the unbearable becomes routine. I push it all into the dark corners of my mind, and it's incredible, the room back there. Amazing, what one can live with.

The place smelled of smoke and sweat, of spilled drinks and sprayed vomit, of desperation and wasted chances

He had sworn a thousand times to kill her, but Cosca had broken all manner of oaths in his life, and the sight of her brought no rage. Instead what welled up in him was a mixture of worn-out self-pity, sappy joy and, most of all, piercing shame at seeing in her face how far he had fallen. He felt the ache in his nose, behind his cheeks, tears welling in his stinging eyes. For once he was grateful that they were red as wounds at the best of times. If he wept, no once could tell the difference.

All I know is there's no changing yesterday. You can only look to do better tomorrow.

There was a red stain across Gorst's eye above the flatbow bolt. But the other one rolled up towards Leo. It seemed, somehow, he still had that smile. 'Do you believe...' His voice sounded much like anyone else's, whispering. 'In redemption?' 'I don't fucking care.' 'You're young. Give it time.

Do you think this is what Ankran would have wanted?' he muttered. 'To be dead?' said Jaud. 'I doubt it.

Ninefingers was talking of himself, of course, as everyone always does, given the chance. It was guilt in his eyes, not accusation. Each man has his own mistakes to follow him.

The world is bound to look a darker place as you slide into the grave.

You turn to shit, alright. But maybe you can leave something good behind you.' She barked empty laughter at him. 'What do we leave behind but things not done, not said, not finished? Empty clothes, empty rooms, empty spaces in the ones who knew us? Mistakes never made right and hopes rotted down to nothing?

Having fucked the groom is really no excuse for missing a wedding, you know.

It was a look that gave her a tingle, all right, but not in a good way. In that look she saw her silly bloody hopes as twisted and broken as she'd left that Lowlander's arm, and it was no one's fault but her own. She shouldn't have let herself hope, but hopes are like weeds: however often you root them out they keep on springing up.

She wished she had better words. Ones that somehow bound up all he'd been to her. All the things felt but never said. All the holes he'd leave behind. But how can you fit all that in a bit of breath? 'By

I want a chance to do it all again. To do it… right.

It can be a terrible curse for a man to get everything he ever dreamed of. If the shining prizes turn out somehow to be empty baubles, he is left without even his dreams for comfort. All the things that Jezal had thought he wanted—power, fame, the beautiful trappings of greatness—they were nothing but dust. All he wanted now was for things to be as they had been, before he got them. But there was no way back. Not ever.

That got him thinking about his life. It seemed a bitter, pointless sort of a life now.

I wish I'd met you sooner,' he said. 'Things might be different.' 'You didn't and they're not. So let's take what we can get , eh?

She tipped back her head and swilled down the last of her wine. 'Having fucked the groom is really no excuse for missing a wedding, you know.

She knew she'd been unhappy there. She'd said it so often, even she was tired of her moaning. Now she rubbed at the thorn and stinking fur on her cloak and wondered how she could've been so hurt by cold words and sharp looks. Seemed foolish and childish and weak. But that's what growing up is, maybe. Realising what a fucking arse you've been.

He was also becoming aware of an unpleasant smell. Damn it. I've shit myself again.

You're young and got dreams ahead of you still. You don't know how it is. One day you're something, so promising and full o' dares, so big the world's too small a place to hold you. Then, 'fore you know it, you're old, and you realize all them things you had in mind you'll never get to. All them doors you felt too big to fit through have already shut. Only one left open and it leads to nothing but nothing.

I can't let them go, those days of summer gone.