Quotes About Regret

Five years ago your brother Lymond was found to have been selling his own country for years: he's been kicked from land to land committing every crime on the calendar and now he's back here, God forgive him, with filthier habits and a nastier mind than he set out with.

Oh, Marigold!" Lymond spoke plaintively. "A silken tongue, a heart of cruelty. Don't berate us. We're only poor scoundrels—vagabonds—scraps of society; unlettered and untaught.

Alec Guthrie looked into the domineering, incongruous eyes which showed something of impatience and something of regret and something, blatant and wounding, of sharp self-derision. 'Abandon your quest,' said Francis Crawford. 'What you are looking for, dear Alec, is buried. And no leech in London is going to revive it.

I hope never to have to do that to you again. I hope one day you will forgive me. Try to remember, just at this moment, that my trade calls for acting. Try to remember, Richard, as I have told you, that because of your own honesty I can't confide in you.

You were right. I should really never have gone back to Jerott. Intolerance drunk is bad enough, but intolerance sober is quite insupportable.

Don't wrest from me my repentance. A whoremonger, a haunter of stews, a hypocrite, a wretch and a maker of strife.

Richard walked over to him. It was not a long way but he walked slowly, as if he were tired, and halted, eventually, face to face with his younger brother. He said, 'Change your mind. It is the last chance in life you may have.' Spoken soberly, with all the honesty of which he was capable, it was neither threat nor impassioned appeal but a simple plea, simply put. To which Lymond, looking him in the eyes, shook his head.

Too late, too late, too late; it had happened.

And Richard was silent, for the truth Jerott had seen touched him, too, for a moment before he thrust it aside. He said, instead, 'Once, I returned, by mistake, a present you gave me.' As when he had come in, fresh from the wind, surprise and pleasure roused, for an instant, all the colour in his brother's face. Francis Crawford said, 'I have kept it, in case one day you might want it. If you do … It makes worthwhile this part, at least, of the journey.

Do you regret it?' said Sybilla. 'I would have kept it for you if I could. I did not know, you see, what you were to be.

From limbo, you cannot say forgive me, unless you can also say you regret what you have done. I have no regrets. I have nothing to tell you, except what you know already: that love is a powerful master. For his favours do you pay tribute and toll while flesh endures, and no doubt after.

Why not? I thought we were speaking of death and dishonour? You would advance to your grave and I should join the ranks of your numerous dead: Diccon and Salablanca, Tosh and Christian Stewart; Oonagh; Will Scott and his father; Turkey Mat and Tom Erskine; the dog Luadhas; the child Khaireddin.… What shall I say to your son when I meet him? Don't be surprised: your sire loved me also?'

Before you die, there must be nothing you have not experienced. When you die—and I shall be there—it will be an experience which no man has savoured. Guard your health, Mr Crawford. I should not like you to leave us too soon.

He had been as careful as he knew how to be, but it had not been enough because he too had been hurt, by a loss he could afford less than Richard.

If I had killed you, none of this would have happened.' 'I thought you would realize it sooner or later,' Lymond said.

Don't you think they would all have been happier if Francis Crawford had never existed?

I take back the more personal insults if you will take back your arm without putting it to impious uses.

I am trying to go back. I thought, believe it or not, that nothing could stop me from going back. I was wrong.

I regret Richard isn't with you. No matter. God hath a thousand hand?s to chastise and I have two—how can Richard escape us both?

But -- my dear, my heart is BROKEN! I have seen the perfect Peter Wimsey. Height, voice, charm, smile, manner, outline of features, everything -- and he is -- THE CHAPLAIN OF BALLIOL!! What is the use of anything? ... I am absolutely shattered by this Balliol business. Such waste -- why couldn't he have been an actor?

I assure your lordship that for the first time in my existence I regret that I have made no practical study of campanology. I am always so delighted to find that there are things you cannot do.

Ah! I have never regretted Paradise Lost since I discovered that it contained no eggs-and-bacon.

Remorse is eating his soul like a caterpillar in a cabbage.

A hangover is the wrath of grapes.