Quotes About Regret

I'm in love with you, Cody. And I know that this is all complicated and confused in a wholly fucked-up way. Meg's death was a tragedy and the worst kind of waste, but I don't want to lose you because of the fucked-up-way I found you." "Fucking Ben McCallister. You make me cry more than almost any person I've ever met." "I shed a few tears myself last night.

Really? Was that how you quit me?

You can't undo loss. You can't unmake a mistake. (What The Hell Have You Done, Sophie Roth?)

I shouldn't have let you go. I should've said something yesterday, but it was intense for me, too, and you scared me, Cody. You scare me a lot." "That's because you're a city dick," I reply. "City dicks are always scared." "So I've been told." "Well, you scare me, too", I say.

It's a good thing Kerry's dead, because that funeral would've sent him over the edge," Henry said.

Ahora lo sé. Me gustaría hacer esa promesa mil veces y perderme mil veces de haberla escuchado tocar ayer por la noche o para verla en el sol de la mañana. O incluso sin eso. Sólo para saber que ella está en algún lugar. Viva.

I know what I did to you was so wrong, but at the time it also felt so necessary to my survival. I don't know if those two things can both be true but that's how it was. If it's any comfort, after a while, when it didn't feel necessary anymore, when it felt hugely wrong, all I was left with was the magnitude of my mistake, of my missing you.

Whoever said that the past isn't dead had it backward. It's the future that's already dead, already played out. This whole night has been a mistake. It's not going to let me rewind. Or unmake the mistakes I've made. Or the promises I've made. Or have her back. Or have me back.

Why wasn't I nicer to Alice? When she has been nothing but sweet to me? When I actually like her? I know I should say something to her, but before I can find the words, she's tooting her horn and disappearing down the street. I wave until she turns the corner. And as I watch another person drive out of here to some better place, I understand exactly why I wasn't nicer.

But I'd do it again. I know that now. I'd make that promise a thousand times over and lose her a thousand times over to have heard her play last night or to see her in the morning sunlight. Or even without that. Just to know that she's somewhere out there. Alive.

I'm so tired of avoiding the unavoidable, because I feel like I've been disappointing her for such a long time.

I just want out. Out of my existence. I find myself wishing that a lot lately. Not to be dead. Or kill myself. Or any of that kind of stupid shit. It's more I can't help think what if I hadn't been born in the first place...

Teddy is never going to graduate from T-ball to baseball. He's never going to grow a mustache. Never going to get into a fistfight or shoot a deer or kiss a girl or have sex or fall in love or get married or father his own curly-haired child. I'm only ten years older than him, but it's like I've already had so much more life. It is unfair, If one of us should have been left behind, if one of us should have been given the opportunity for more life, it should be him.

Una vez que un accidente pasa, no hay vuelta atrás.

I know what I did to you was so wrong, but at the time it also felt so necessary to my survival.

Le plus curieux, c'est que, peu à peu, un autre sentiment a fait surface. Quelque chose comme de la déception. Et je me suis aperçue que, en dépit de tout, j'aurais vraiment aimé aller voir le grand canyon.

OrI just want out. Out of my existence. I find myself wishing that a lot lately. Not be dead. Or kill myself. Or any of that kind of stupid shit. It's more that I can't help thinking that if I'd never been born in the first place, I wouldn't be facing those sixty-seven nights, I wouldn't be right here, right now, having just endured that conversation with her.

Why not? Tell me. You owe me this!" She looks at me, square in the eye. Taking aim. And then she pulls the trigger. "Because I hated you." The wind, the noise it all just goes quiet for a second, and I'm left with a dull ringing in my ear, like a after a show, like a after a heart monitor goes to flatline. "Hated me? Why?" "Because you made me stay.

Cruzaste las aguas, me dejaste en la orilla; eso ya supuso mi muerte, pero aún quisiste más. Volaste el puente, cual terrorista rabiosa, y desde tu ribera me mandaste un beso. Empecé a seguirte, pero advertí, demasiado tarde, que bajo mis pies sólo había aire.

En solo un día, había llegado a amar esa sonrisa. Y ahora la quiero eliminar.

But then one time, you track down an email address and you're near a computer with Internet access so you don't have that nice cushion and you type what you're feeling and press send before you have a chance to talk yourself out of it. And then you wait, and wait, and wait, and nothing comes back, so all those things you thought were so important to say, really, they weren't. They weren't worth saying at all.

Lo peor que podría hacer es atropellarla con una bicicleta.

My anger feels hot and bilious but I keep it bottled until it doubles back and I'm mad at myself.

Apparently when you only have one day, you can say anything and live to tell.