Quotes About Regret

No. I had enough of babies growing up." "Never mind. Kids are just a needle in your heart.

there's not one goddamn person in this world who doesn't have a bad memory or two to take with them through life.

But here they were, and Olive pictured two slices of Swiss cheese pressed together, such holes they brought to this union—what pieces life took out of you. Her eyes were closed, and throughout her tired self swept waves of gratitude—and regret. She pictured the sunny room, the sun-washed wall, the bayberry outside. It baffled her, the world. She did not want to leave it yet.

Angelina said, "Mom. I don't want you to die. That's the whole thing. You took from me the ability to care for you in your old age, and I wanted to be with you when you died, when you die. Mom. I wanted that.

She felt she had figured something out too late, and that must be the way of life, to get something figured out when it was too late.

I know faintly, even now, that I have embarrassed myself, and it always comes back to the feeling of childhood, that huge pieces of knowledge about the world were missing that can never be replaced.

At times these days—rarely, very rarely, but at times—I feel like I've become, oh, just a tiny—tiny—bit better as a person, and it makes me sick that Henry didn't get any of that from me.

There was an old African proverb Dottie had read one day that said, "After a man eats, he becomes shy." And Dottie thought of that now with Shelly. Shelly was like the man in the proverb; having satisfied her needs, she was ashamed. She had confided more than she had wanted to, and now Dottie was somehow to blame.

it was an unspeakably awful thing. And I had not known. This is the way of life: the many things we do not know until it is too late.

and then I would think about when the girls were little, but they were somehow not always happy memories for me, because I seemed only to remember how William had been cheating on me for so many years during that time, and so what I might otherwise have thought of as a good memory was not one.

Ed era troppo tardi. Nessuno vuole mai credere che sia troppo tardi, ma lo sta sempre diventando. E poi lo è.

He understood that he was a seventy-four-year-old man who looks back at life and marvels that it unfolded as it did, who feels unbearable regret for all the mistakes made.

am in mourning for my life." It took me a moment. We were

she seemed caught between the pincers of some intractable remorse.

What a really awful thing I had done. I had not thought of this until now. To deny my husband any chance of comforting me—oh, it was an unspeakably awful thing. And I had not known. This is the way of life: the many things we do not know until it is too late.

Angie se dio cuenta de que había comprendido algo demasiado tarde y que la vida debía de ser eso, comprender algo cuando ya era demasiado tarde.

she had not known what one should know: that day after day was unconsciously squandered.

him. "Lost a little weight now we don't have our crackers and cheese every night. But I guess I look like hell." He would say that

At David's service in a funeral home in the city—which was then, and is now, all a blur to me—I do remember Becka whispering to me, "Dad wishes he could sit up here with us." "He said that to you?" I asked, turning to look at her, and she nodded solemnly. Poor William, I thought.

And remorse, well, to be able to show remorse—to be able to be sorry about what we've done that's hurt other people—that keeps us human.

Her eyes were closed, and throughout her tired self swept waves of gratitude—and regret. She pictured the sunny room, the sun-washed wall, the bayberry outside. It baffled her, the world. She did not want to leave it yet.

I would sometimes sit in our small bedroom and weep with a kind of horrendous inner pain, and William would come to me and say, "Lucy, talk to me, what is it?" And I would just shake my head until he went away. What a really awful thing I had done. I had not thought of this until now. To deny my husband any chance of comforting me—oh, it was an unspeakably awful thing. And I had not known. This is the way of life: the many things we do not know until it is too late.

they would never get over that night because they had said things that altered how they saw each other.

And as time went by, the idea of seeing the girls that way again was almost as bad as not seeing them at all.