Quotes About Regret

When it is time to die, let us not discover that we never lived.

It is hard to forget that which it is worse than useless to remember.

No man ever followed his genius till it misled him. Though the result were bodily weakness, yet perhaps no one can say that the consequences were to be regretted, for these were a life in conformity to higher principles.

The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.

It is a fool's life, as they will find when they get to the end of it, if not before.

Det mesta som betraktas som gott är jag innerligt övertygad om är dåligt, och finns det något jag ångrar är det med största sannolikhet mitt goda uppförande.

When it's time to die, let us not discover that we have never lived.

Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains. I would drink deeper; fish in the sky, whose bottom is pebbly with stars. I cannot count one. I know not the first letter of the alphabet. I have always been regretting that I was not as wise as the day I was born.

A maior parte das coisas que meus semelhantes consideram boas, creio no fundo da alma que são más, e se de alguma coisa me arrependo é provável que seja do meu bom comportamento. Que diabo se apossou de mim para que me comportasse tão bem?

Siempre he deplorado no ser tan sabio como lo era el día en que nací

It is a fool's life, as they will find when they get to the end of it, if not before.

One never said the things one wanted — one remembered them all an hour afterwards. On the other hand one usually said a lot of things one shouldn't, simply from a sense that one had to say something.

You must come to Lockleigh again, said Miss Molyneux, very sweetly, to Isabel, ignoring this remark of Isabel's friend. Isabel looked into her quiet eyes a moment, and for that moment seemed to see in their grey depths the reflexion of everything she had rejected in rejecting Lord Warburton—the peace, the kindness, the honour, the possessions, a deep security and a great exclusion. She kissed Miss Molyneux and then she said: I'm afraid I can never come again.

One never said the things one wanted--one remembered them an hour afterward. On the other hand one usually said a lot of things one shouldn't, simply from a sense that one had to say something. Such a sense was upsetting; it muddled one's wits.

I didn't refuse often enough.

Wasn't history full of the destruction of precious things?

What had the man had, to make him by the loss of it so bleed and yet live? Something—and this reached him with a pang—that he, John Marcher, hadn't; the proof of which was precisely John Marcher's arid end.  No passion had ever touched him, for this was what passion meant; he had survived and maundered and pined, but where had been his deep ravage?... The escape would have been to love her; then, then he would have lived. 

It's all a mere mistake and a worry and a joke—and we'll go home as fast as we can!

When I tell you I love you it's simply what I came for. I thought it was for something else; but it was for that. I shouldn't say it if I didn't believe I should never see you again. It's the last time — let me pluck a single flower! I've no right to say that, I know; and you've no right to listen. But you don't listen; you never listen, you're always thinking of something else.

I'll marry you, mind you, in an hour. As we were? As we were. But she turned to the door, and her headshake was now the end. We shall never be again as we were!

Isabel, he went on suddenly, I wish it were over for you. She answered nothing; she had burst into sobs; she remained so, with her buried face. He lay silent, listening to her sobs; at last he gave a long groan.

But these fancies were not marked enough not not to be thrown off, and it is only in the light, or the gloom, I should rather say, of other and subsequent matters that they now come back to me.

I never was what I should be.

Nothing was a pleasure to her now; how could anything be a pleasure to a woman who knew that she had thrown away her life? There was an everlasting weight on her heart — there was a livid light on everything.