Quotes About Regret

The rolls of music that she herself had thrown into the trash with the pretext that they had rotted from dampness kept spinning and playing in her memory.

They're always looking forward to going places they're just coming back from, or regretting doing things they haven't yet done. They say hello when they mean goodbye.

They did more than take our youth away. They also took away the men we were going to be.

Oh man sometimes I wake up feel like a cat runover. Are you familiar with the stoical aspects of hard drinking, of heavy drinking? Oh it's heavy. Oh it's hard. It isn't easy. Jesus, I never meant me any harm. All I wanted was a good time.

Senza mai guardare dove sta andando, la gente si muove attraverso qualcosa di predisposto, armata di bugie. Non vede l'ora di raggiungere luoghi dai quali è appena tornata, o si rammarica di aver fatto cose che non ha ancora fatto. Signori delle bugie e della spazzatura - di ogni sorta di merda e di spazzatura. [...] Lo prendiamo ancora in culo ogni mattina come tutti gli altri - ma in questi giorni la cosa finisce in un baleno.

At the age of twenty, his artistic dreams frustrated, Hitler was a tramp: park benches, soup queues. Given just a little more talent, perhaps, he would have killed himself, not in the bunker, but in a cosy little studio in Klagenfurt.

By 12.30, Giles had consumed five gin-rickies, four gin-and-tonics, three gin-and-its, two gin-and-bitters, and one gin.

Esprit de l'escalier: spirit of the staircase, wishing you'd said, wishing you'd done. Yet how much more indelible it was when the staircase was the staircase that led to the bedroom.

Is that why the parents of dead children spend half the rest of their lives in darkened rooms? Are they hoping the ghosts will return with all their original power? She

In the end, it's not your Nobel Prize you're thinking of, it's not your three National Book Awards, and all that. It's your sins of the heart (real or imagined), it's your wives, your children, and how things went with them.

Durante años me pasé diciendo lo mismo, o cosas peores. Porque me sentía abandonado, aunque ella no hubiera podido evitarlo, muriera o no. Me ayuda oír sus palabras, porque compruebo lo estúpidas y venenosas que son. Sobre todo estúpidas.

There's no hurt that's equal to time lost.

My life has been a pleasant one and though I should regret to leave it, it would be a regret that perhaps I should never know.

We are faced with the fact, my friends, that tomorrow is today. Procrastination is still the thief of time. Over the bleached bones and jumbled residues of numerous civilizations are written the pathetic words 'Too Late'.

Oh, the worst of all tragedies is not to die young, but to live until I am seventy-five and yet not ever truly to have lived.

Timpul în sine este neutru. Åži va trebui s? regret?m pe parcursul acestei generaÅ£ii nu doar cuvintele pline de ur? ÅŸi acÅ£iunile oamenilor r?i, ci ÅŸi t?cerea înfrico??toare a oamenilor buni.

After that message of 23 April, the entire South Atlantic was an operational theatre for both sides. We, as professionals, said it was just too bad that we lost the Belgrano.

One day she would recall this very twilit evening and the sight of her children dancing on the shore and then... Yes, then she would wish she had stopped to hold their chubby hands and play tag along with them.

But she had the chance now to make things right, at least for her daughter. She may have done a lot of things wrong, but the decision to give up her child would be the one responsible, unselfish act of her life. It was the best thing she'd ever done. But it felt like the worst.

It was chilling to wake up at forty years of age to find she had no friends, no interests and no investments in anything unconnected to her work.

She never wanted to hurt anyone's feelings. But in the end, she hurt herself.

She was nearly seventy years old. There was no time left for regret or misgivings, no time for dreams of what might have been.

Are not the forest fringes wet with tears? Is not the voice of all regret Breaking out of the dark earth's heart? She too, she too, has loved and lost; and though She turned last night in disdain Away from the sunset-embers, From her soul she can never depart; She can never depart from her pain. Vainly she strives to forget; Beautiful in her woe, She awakes in the dawn and remembers.

Was memory always as much of a burden as it could sometimes be a blessing.