Quotes About Regret

They are not lost. Nor are they in a better place. They are gone. As I approach the end of my years, I know that grief, like regret, settles into our DNA and remains forever a part of us.

One thing I can tell you for sure is this: we only regret what we don't do in life.

I don't have a good history with men." "You know the thing about history, Elsa? It's over. Already dead and gone." "They say people who don't heed history are doomed to repeat it.

If I had told him the truth long ago, or had danced and drunk and sung more, maybe he would have seen me instead of a dependable, ordinary mother. He loves a version of me that is incomplete. I always thought it was what I wanted; to be loved and admired. Now i think perhaps I'd like to be known.

Sometimes you simply made the wrong choice and you had to live with it. You could only change the future. She

Regret, I know, is a powerful remainder; it can bring the strongest man to his knees.

She smiled at the memory, even as it saddened her to think that somewhere along the way their dreams had untangled, gone on separate paths.

If I had told him the truth long ago, or had danced and drunk and sung more, maybe he would have seen me instead of a dependable, ordinary mother.

Angie looked at her. There was a heavy sadness in her eyes. "I wish I could make everything okay. But some dreams just pass us by. It's the way life is.

It's too bad we don't live life backward. I think it was Kierkegaard who said that.

As I approach the end of my years, I know that grief, like regret, settles into our DNA and remains forever a part of us.

She cried at last, for all the times she'd had been with her father and all the times she hadn't, and for all the times she never would be. When the tears had worn themselves out and left her dry, she got unsteadily to her feet.

Leni got to her feet, stared at him. I didn't mean to do that. The same words she'd heard spoken by her dad.

Forgiveness doesn't matter, does it, Dean? When a thing is done, it's done. You can't unring a bell.

If I had told him the truth long ago, or had danced and drunk and sung more, maybe he would have seen me instead of a dependable, ordinary mother. He loves a version of me that is incomplete. I always thought it was what I wanted: to be loved and admired. Now I think perhaps I'd like to be known.

In the years that she had been tying scraps to the branches, the tree had died and the fruit had turned bitter. The other apple trees were hale and healthy, but this one, the tree of her remembrances, was as black and twisted as the bombed-out town behind it.

Fleetingly he wondered what the man's life had been like, where it had gone so desperately wrong. No one tried to end up like this, alone and defenseless and poor, eking a living from the harsh Arizona desert.

You can't unlove someone even if you want to, even if he breaks your heart.

Now it would never happen; she would never get to know her father, never feel the warmth of his hand in hers, never fall asleep on the divan beside him, never be able to say all that needed to be said between them. Those words were lost, turned into ghosts that would drift away, unsaid. They would never be the family maman had promised. "Papa," she said; it was such a big word suddenly, a dream in its entirety.

Even if I could forgive him, how would I forget?

Dreams. They'd had so many of them, and a surprising number had come true. The funny thing was that she hadn't valued them all highly enough when she'd had the chance.

Take it from me, Father. Life is over quickly, and you only regret what you didn't do.

Adults always talked about mistakes, the cost of doing the wrong thing. She wished she'd listened now.

An even worse memory followed: Gaëtan. He had abandoned her after all; it filled her with the kind of bone-deep disappointment she knew so well.