Quotes About Regret

I had a funny feeling as I saw the house disappear, as though I had written a poem and it was very good and I had lost it and would never remember it again.

You can have a hangover from other things than alcohol. I had one from women.

It's a swell theory, I said. Marriott socked me, took the money, then he got sorry and beat his brains out, after first burying the money under a bush.

When I left Merle was wearing a bungalow apron and rolling pie crust. She came to the door wiping her hands on the apron and kissed me on the mouth and began to cry and ran back into the house, leaving the doorway empty [...] I had a funny feeling as I saw the house disappear, as though I had written a poem and it was very good and I had lost it and would never remember it again. (p. 262)

It could have been a beautiful friendship," Beifus said with a sigh. "Except for the ice pick, of course.

You can have a hangover from other things than alcohol. I had one from women. Women made me sick.

The tragedy of life, is not that the beautiful things die young, but that they grow old and mean.

I'm a weak character, without guts or ambition. I caught the brass ring and it shocked me to find out it wasn't gold. A guy like me has one big moment in his life, one perfect swing on the high trapeze. Then he spends the rest of his time trying not to fall off the sidewalk into the gutter.

I went down to the lobby and slipped the catch and then took a shower and put my pajamas on and lay down on the bed. I could have slept for a week. I dragged myself up off the bed again and set the catch on the door, which I had forgotten to do, and walked through a deep hard snowdrift out to the kitchenette and laid out glasses and a bottle of liqueur Scotch I had been saving for a really high-class seduction.

What did it matter where you lay once you were dead? In a dirty sump or in a marble tower on top of a high hill? You were dead, you were sleeping the big sleep, you were not bothered by things like that... On the way downtown I stopped at a bar and had a couple of double Scotches. They didn't do me any good. All they did was make me think of Silver-Wig, and I never saw her again.

I don't mind if you don't like my manners. I don't like them myself. They're pretty bad. I grieve over them on long winter evenings.

There was a woman. She was rich. She thought she wanted to marry me. It wouldn't have worked. I'll probably never see her again. But I remember." "Let's go," she said quietly. "And let's leave the memory in charge. I only wish I had one worth remembering." On the way down to the Cadillac I didn't touch her either. She drove beautifully. When a woman is a really good driver she is just about perfect.

You can make a lot of mistakes in just one lifetime. (I'll Be Waiting)

poisoned myself with cigarette smoke

You will have to make decisions far worse. You are going to have to learn to think before you act, but never to regret your decisions, right or wrong. Otherwise, you will slowly begin to not make decisions at all.

Nicholas stopped her again. "So you tried to kill her?" "Only a little. I would have stopped before she was completely dead.

I let my anger consume me." "It's understandable," she said. "It may be understandable," replied Pug, "but it is no more forgivable for being understandable.

Forgive me, Magnus.' 'I don't know if I can.' 'You must.' Still looking into the distance, he said, 'You need my forgiveness?' 'No. I'm dead. You can do nothing for me. You need to forgive me so you can live.

Tragic to kill a friend in battle by mistake when there are so many enemies to go around.

The past can be a terrible weight bound to you by a unbreakable chain. You can drag it with you, forever looking over your shoulder at what holds you back, Or you can let it go and move forward

time is coming, soon, when I will tell you things you will wish I had never told you.

Thousands of men had died needlessly so that two madmen could betray a good king.

Robert had taught him to keep his thoughts in the present or near future, for as Robert had told him, To dwell in the past is to live in regret.

It wasn't surprising and it wasn't quite real. I kept thinking it was a bizarre mistake or a made-up story, until I called her mother, who told me how beautifully made up Marine's corpse was and urged me to see her at the funeral chapel. This with her cigarettes still in my ashtray, her hair still in my brush, her clothes still in my car, her voice still in my ears, so soon after we'd been looking at ourselves together in my mirror and she the more lithe, the more fluidly beautiful of the two