Quotes About Regret

If her love affair with Peter had stopped after six months it would have been a gorgeous memorable thing. But in love no one ever leaves well enough alone, and so it settles into a strange unsatisfactory kind of friendship or sours into mutual recriminations and regret, the dress pushed to the back of the closet, limp and so unnew, embalmed in plastic because of what it once was.

Death is so strange, so mysterious, so sad, that we want to blame someone for it. And it was easy to blame me. Besides, when people wonder how I survived being accused of killing my mother, none of them realizes that watching her die was many, many times worse. And knowing I could have killed her was nothing compared to knowing I could not save her.

No man ever said on his deathbed I wish I had spent more time at the office.

children make it impossible to regret your past. They're its finest fruits. Sometimes its only ones.

when people wonder how I survived being accused of killing my mother, none of them realizes that watching her die was many, many times worse. And knowing I could have killed her was nothing compared to knowing I could not save her. And know I'd almost missed knowing her was far more frightening than Ed Best and his little army of shrunken suits.

To regret the exchange of earthly pleasures for the joys of Heaven, is as if the grovelling caterpillar should lament that it must one day quit the nibbled leaf to soar aloft and flutter through the air, roving at will from flower to flower, sipping sweet honey from their cups, or basking in their sunny petals. If these little creatures knew how great a change awaited them, no doubt they would regret it; but would not all such sorrow be misplaced?

I was infatuated once with a foolish, besotted affection, that clung to him in spite of his unworthiness, but it is fairly gone now--wholly crushed and withered away; and he has none but himself and his vices to thank for it.

you have blighted the promise of youth, and made my life a wilderness!

I should think you will be willing enough to go?' 'Yes — for some things,' I replied. 'For some things only — I wonder what should make you regret it?' I was annoyed at this in some degree; because it embarrassed me: I had only one reason for regretting it; and that was a profound secret, which he had no business to trouble me about.

You have blighted the freshness and promise of youth, and made my life a wilderness!

As usual, I have reaped the bitter fruits of my own error- and must reap them to the end.

but not finding it equally suitable to my taste, I presently fell back, and began to botanise and entomologise along the green banks and budding hedges, till the company was considerably in advance of me, and I could hear the sweet song of the happy lark; then my spirit of misanthropy began to melt away beneath the soft, pure air and genial sunshine; but sad thoughts of early childhood, and yearnings for departed joys, or for a brighter future lot, arose instead.

She should have died on that day. Perhaps, in a way, she had.

Why was everyone so interested in her now? When it was too late to change anything? What was the point?

Imagine that you are dying. If you had a terminal disease would you ­finish this book? Why not? The thing that annoys this 10-weeks-to-live self is the thing that is wrong with the book. So change it. Stop arguing with yourself. Change it. See? Easy. And no one had to die.

Sometimes I'm so deeply buried under self-reproaches that I long for a word of comfort to help me dig myself out again.

Deep down I know I could never be that innocent again, however much I'd like to be.

Dead people receive more flowers than living ones because regret is stronger than gratitude

I continued to sit with the open book in my hand and wonder why I was filled with so much anger and hate that I had to confide it all to you. I tried to understand the Anne of last year and make apologies for her, because as long as I leave you with these accusations and don't attempt to explain what prompted them, my conscience won't be clear.

Os mortos recebem mais flores do que os vivos, porque o remorso é mais forte que a gratidão

I tried to understand the Anne of last year and make apologies for her, because as long as I leave you with these accusations and don't attempt to explain what prompted them, my conscience won't be clear.

Dead people recive more flowers than living ones because regret is stronger tha gratitute

the dead reseave more flowers than the living for regret is stronger than gratitude

Yes. And when a rake finally falls, he falls forever.