Quotes About Regret

HOW SAD, YE gods, how sad the world is at evening, how mysterious the mists over the swamps. You will know it when you have wandered astray in those mists, when you have suffered greatly before dying, when you have walked through the world carrying an unbearable burden. You know it too when you are weary and ready to leave this earth without regret; its mists, its swamps and its rivers; ready to give yourself into the arms of death with a light heart, knowing that death alone can comfort you.

Once there was a certain lady . . . And she had no children, and generally no happiness either. And so first she cried for a long time, and then she became wicked . . .

The poet had wasted his night while others had spent it enjoying themselves and now he realised that it was lost forever. He only had to lift his head up from the lamp and look at the sky to see that the night had gone beyond return. Waiters were hurriedly jerking the cloths off the tables. The cats pacing the verandah had a morning look about them. Day broke inexorably over the poet.

The weary man knows it. And without regret he leaves the mists of the earth, its swamps and rivers, with a light heart he gives himself into the hands of death, knowing that she alone can bring him peace.

understanding and admitting to himself that nothing in his life could be repaired any more, that all he could do was to forget.

A quarter of an hour later, Ruikhin sat in complete solitude, hunched over his bream, drinking glass after glass, understanding and recognizing that it was no longer possible to set anything right in his life, that it was only possible to forget.

Twelve thousand moons for one moon long ago, isn't that too much?

Gods, gods! How sad the evening earth! How mysterious the mists over the bogs! Whoever has wandered in these mists, whoever suffered deeply before death, whoever flew over this earth burdened beyond human strength knows it. The weary one knows it. And he leaves without regret the mists of the earth, its swamps and rivers, and yields himself with an easy heart to the hands of death, knowing that it alone can bring surcease.

To the sound of his unbroken sobbing and the woman's groans I managed, if the truth be known, to break the baby's arm. The child was born dead. God, how the sweat ran down my back! For an instant I somehow imagined that some huge, grim, black figure would appear and burst into the cottage, saying in a stony voice: 'Aha! Take away his degree!

He turned away and offered his hand in parting. She didn't take it or say anything. But from where I was behind the door I could see her face through the crack. I pitied her to see how deathly pale that sweet little face had gone. Hearing no answer, Pechorin took a few steps towards the door. He was trembling, and I might say I think he was fit to do what he'd threatened as a joke. That's the sort of man he was, there was no knowing him.

Tell me, does it amuse you very much to torture me? I ought to hate you. since I've known you, you've brought me nothing but suffering me.. Her voice trembled, she leaned towards head upon my breast. Perhaps that's why you loved me, I thought. Moments of happiness one forgets, but sorrow never.

Por supuesto, para abstenerse de beber, intentaba convencerse a sí mismo de que todas las desgracias en el mundo son resultado de una borrachera.

Perhaps that's just why you loved me,' I thought. 'Joys are forgotten, but sorrows never.

Einmal ist keinmal, says Tomas to himself. What happens but once, says the German adage, might as well not have happened at all. If we have only one life to live, we might as well not have lived at all.

Human life occurs only once, and the reason we cannot determine which of our decisions are good and which bad is that in a given situation we can make only one decision; we are not granted a second, third, or fourth life in which to compare various decisions.

She is sadder and sadder, and for a man there is no balm more soothing than the sadness he has caused a woman.

If I had two lives, in one life I could invite her to stay at my place, and in the second life I could kick her out. Then I could compare and see which had been the best thing to do. But we only live once. Life's so light. Like an outline we can't ever fill in or correct... make any better. It's frightening.

We can reproach ourselves for some action, for a remark, but not for a feeling, quite simply because we have no control at all over it.

If I hadn't met you, I'd certainly have fallen in love with him.

Only the basic situations in life occur only once, never to return. For a man to be a man, he must be fully aware of this never-to-return. (p.148)

Lo que sólo ocurre una vez es como si no ocurriera nunca. Si el hombre sólo puede vivir una vida es como si no viviera en absoluto

Perhaps if they had stayed together longer, Sabina and Franz would have begun to understand the words they used. Gradually, timorously, their vocabularies would have come together, like bashful lovers, and the music of one would have begun to intersect with the music of the other. But it was too late now.

El hombre nunca sabe qué debe querer, porque vive sólo una vida y no tiene modo de compararla con sus vidas precedentes ni de enmendarla con sus vidas posteriores.

Eventually we come to know and understand a lot of things, but it's too late, because a whole life has already been determined at a stage when we didn't know a thing.