Quotes About Regret

Habla cuando estés furioso y harás el mejor discurso que tengas que lamentar.

her lower lip was like an orange mint. and i was a crying little boy in the candy store.

Mary Agnes had been saving her money for two years…and perhaps her parents had been saving up for her wedding for the past twenty. And it was over in five hours, with nothing left but an album of photographs and a reel or two of movie film and a dress that would have to be kept in a box with moth balls, and a million confused and blurred memories.

I ended up with forty acres; I ended up with a broken fiddle-- And a broken laugh, and a thousand memories, and not a sin- gle regret.

La vida es un pequeño espacio de luz entre dos nostalgias: la de lo que aún no has vivido y la de lo que ya no vas a poder vivir. Y el momento justo de la acción es tan confuso, tan resbaladizo y tan efímero que lo desperdicias mirando con aturdimiento alrededor.

I made a big mistake, which I'm really trying to deal with. You bringing it up makes me feel worse. I'm not sure if that's your point, but I promise you that I would never make you feel bad if you were in my situation, so I'm done talking about this." GIRLS

Uma vez teve a ideia de aparar as sobrancelhas para que crescessem mais cerradas e quase acabou raspando tudo e ficando sem sobrancelha nenhuma.

I was not prepared to think of the people I had lost, or to speak of them, although we did, carefully, without letting their names loose in the wind that would reach their ears. We feared that they would hear us and never rest, come back out of pity for the loneliness we felt.

Wonder what?" "If one of them will ever say, Gee, those damn Indians might have had an idea or two. Shouldn't have got rid of them all. Maybe we missed out." Louis laughed. Thomas laughed. They laughed together at the idea.

which...to kill yourself means never having to say you're sorry.

He despised his body for its boring hungers, reflex anger; its petty, obliterating rage. But now he'd become detached. He regarded his body with a tender regret. It was the thing his spirit had to haul.

She was just glad he hadn't come back to life, which did make her sad. How sad it was not to be sad.

And now we're putting another man in the earth. Maybe a drunk, but he wasn't always a drunk.

Awee, said Mooshum. A happy death. And a noble lover for you, Ignatia, as he satisfied you even from the other side. I wish to die that way, but who will give me the chance?

to poison his spirit, drowned it methodically, savagely, choked it off. Alcohol had been the tool. He thought back to when he took the first drink of his first real dirty drunk and remembered how he'd wept into the amber flame deep in the cup and how his sorrow had been answered with a spreading warmth and a forgetting.

The strong old woman was walking away, and in her step there was the sadness of parting with an old but dangerously foolish friend.

I will always be haunted by what I did too... and so we sat there. Two haunted women.

You can't get over things you did to other people as easily as the things they did to you.

You can't get over things you do to other people as easily as you get over things they do to you.

The buffalo were taking leave of the earth and all they loved," said the old chiefs and hunters after years had passed and they could tell what split their hearts. "The buffalo went crazy with grief to see the end of things. Like us, they saw the end of things and like many of us, many today, they did not care to live." *

People cling to their rotten memories, to all their misfortunes, and you can't pry them loose. These things keep them busy. They avenge themselves for the injustice of the present by smearing the future inside them with this shit. They're cowards deep down, and just. That's their nature.

Frankly, just between you and me, I'm ending up even worse than I started...

Here we are, alone again. It's all so slow, so heavy, so sad. . . I'll be old soon. Then at last it will be over. So many people have come into my room. They've talked. They haven't said much. They've gone away. They've grown old, wretched, sluggish, each in some corner of the world.

Even memories have their youth … When you let them grow old, they turn into revolting phantoms dripping with selfishness, vanity, and lies … They rot like apples