Quotes About Regret

Everybody does stupid things in life. Some of us more than others. You think you're going to get away with it. Or one or both of you just stop thinking. But it happens. And when it does, you can keep drinking it like poison, or you can put it behind you and go make the most of the rest of your life.

Great, you ruined my life and you don't even remember it.

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I wish it hadn't happened; but what good does this do? I can wish it wouldn't happen again - but here too, if I'm wishing the impossible, it will do no good at all.

It is what you haven't done that will torment you

It wouldn't have surprised me to learn that nobody we knew had ever really seen the building: it was the sort of thing you wished you'd done, without actually wishing to do it.

It wouldn't have surprised me to learn that nobody we knew had ever really seen the building: it was the sort of thing you wished you'd done, without actually wishing to do it.

She wished they'd had more time, say an hour or a week or maybe a few years, to figure this all out.

Anne, I'm sorry about your pa… all this time… all that waitin'. All that time? she said, taking a step toward him. You were waiting for him. He was all you ever wanted. I know it, and I'm sorry, he said. Jack, she said, her voice husky and soft. It was you, she said. It was you all that time, all those years. I was waiting… for you. - Jack & Anne

If you give in to "just this once," based on a marginal-cost analysis, you'll regret where you end up. That's the lesson I learned: it's easier to hold to your principles 100 percent of the time than it is to hold to them 98 percent of the time.

an inevitable truth of life: Not every foodie memory is a good foodie memory).

We see on our death bed, not our whole life flashing before us – as with a drowning man – but an endless sequence of all the things we had wanted to do and had never done.

You are my beauty, my body, perfected. All I was drained off into you. When you left, my health went with you - leaving a moral morbidity I smell in my sleep. The acts I committed for the love of you. Acts I can never forget. I crawled into the bellies of the dead to fish out a little life... I have an appetite for it now. I have an unrelenting lust for death.

Well, it was most likely too late; there would not be time for me to flagellate myself for every dishonorable deed in that list, nor any chance to make good the harms I'd done. Minor harms, to be sure, in the scheme of things; but large enough to regret.

You're damned if you can't forgive, Jude.

And with that comprehension, so unlike the simplifications she'd been ruled by hitherto, she became even more certain that the carpet they carried was a last hope, while he — whose home the Weave contained — seemed increasingly indifferent to its fate, living in the moment and for the moment, touched scarcely at all by hope or regret.

You still love her, don't you?" Pie said, once they were out and walking. "Of course I love her," Estabrook said. "That's why I want her dead." "There's no resurrection, Mr. Estabrook. Not for you, at least." "It's not me who's dying," he said. "I think it is," came the

Then, having finished with his gesture of remorse, he sat down, like any decent man who has been deeply wronged, and planned murder.

And whatever she suffered, he will suffer so much worse, so much worse. However loudly she cried, and begged him to stop, her murderer will cry out more loudly.

This will not come again. Nor this. Nor this....

Eu não sabia o que estava a perder', disse Harvey. 'Ah...', disse Hood, suavemente 'mas não é sempre assim que as coisas se passam? Há coisas que nos deslizam pelos dedos e só quando se vão embora é que nos arrependemos. Mas aquilo que se vai embora não volta, Harvey Swick!

He got to his feet and stumbled away from the stench of his vomit, making his way through this graveyard of old glories, heading for the darkest place he could find in which to hide his giddy head.

With Floyd we had three hundred and ninety-eight years between us. All that bitter experience, he said, and not one of us wise.

You've got blood on your hands, and you smell of coitus.