Quotes About Regret

When a rake falls, he falls forever. <3

Because the forgiven one was always in the wrong. Forgiven didn't mean forgotten.

If you always dreamed of writing a novel or a memoir, and you used to love to write, and were pretty good at it, will it break your heart if it turns out you never got around to it? If you wake up one day at eighty, will you feel nonchalant that something always took precedence over a daily commitment to discovering your creative spirit? If not--if this very thought fills you with regret--then what are you waiting for?

What if you wake up at sixty and realize that you forgot to wake up, and you never became the person you were born to be, and now your hair is falling out?

I prayed for my heart to soften, to forgive her, and love her for what she did give me--life, great values, a lot of tennis lessons, and the best she could do. Unfortunately, the best she could do was terrible, thee the Minister of Silly Walks trying to raise an extremely sensitive young girl, and my heart remained hardened toward her. [p. 46]

What if you wake up some day, and you're 65… and you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life?

People don't change, love. React first, think later, regret at leisure.

One can forgive almost anything except one's own stupidities.

I'm naive enough to think that love is always good, no matter how long ago, no matter the circumstances. I'm not old enough yet to imagine the instances where this isn't true and where regret outweighs everything.

The shadow past is shaped by everything that never happened.

The years are cruel. They rob us of our health and our friends and our hopes, and give nothing back. - Pg. 146

It is a uniquely distressing experience to see yourself only through the eyes of others, too often those you have injured in some way, to know irrefutably what you have done but not why you did it, not the mitigating circumstances, the beliefs you held at the time which made your actions seem reasonable then.

Every one of them had been somebody's son, somebody's friend. Grant rubbed his hands over his face and drew in a long breath, letting it out in a sigh. "Perhaps Tallis did go mad, poor bastard. I hate this more

Why is it that one does not tell people things while there is time? One lets such trivial things matter.

To lose someone you love because they die is a sweet ache. To lose everything good you believed of them is a pain that stains all they left behind. It poisons the very air of memory. Ballinger

Merciful death. How you love your precious guilt

I am an unwilling devil. I cry like some vagrant child. I want to go home.

Should we put out the light? And then put out the light. But once put out thy light, I cannot give it vital breath again. It needs must wither.

My conscience is killing me, isn't it? And when you're immortal that can be a really long and ignominious death

The evil of one murder is infinite, and my guilt is like my beauty - eternal. I cannot be forgiven, for there is no one to forgive me for all I've done.

Let tears gather in your eyes. You haven't tears enough for what you've done to me. Six more mortal years, seven, eight…I might have had that shape!' Her pointed finger flew at Madeleine, whose hands had risen to her face, whose eyes were clouded over. Her moan was almost Claudia's name. But Claudia did not hear her. 'Yes, that shape, I might have known what it was to walk at your side.

You do not know your vampire nature. You are like an adult who, looking back on his childhood, realizes that he never appreciated it. You cannot, as a man, go back to the nursery and play with your toys, asking for the love and care to be showered on you again simply because now you know their worth. So it is with you and mortal nature. You've given it up. You no longer look through a glass darkly. But you cannot pass back to the world of human warmth with your new eyes.

what was the good of being a movie werewolf? You howled at the moon; you couldn't remember what you did, and then somebody shot you.

Maybe that was all there ever will be just that one weekend and forever this unfinished feeling...