Quotes About Regret

the sin we had done once, and with loathing, we would do many times, and with joy.

do not accept a sacrifice so great.  If you do, you will live to repent it bitterly

One of the greatest tragedies of my life is the death of Lucien de Rubempré… It haunts me in my moments of pleasure. I remember it when I laugh.

nasza przysz?o?? b?dzie taka sama jak przesz?o?? i grzech, pope?niony kiedy? raz, ze wstr?tem, b?dziemy powtarza? po wielokro? - ju? z przyjemno?ci?.

The past could always be annihilated. Regret, denial, or forgetfulness could do that.

that is one of the great secrets of life. Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one's mistakes.

I am dying beyond my means

Alas, I'm dying beyond my means

Puede recordar usted algún gran error que haya cometido en su juventud, duquesa? -preguntó mirándola- Me temo que de una gran cantidad de ellos -exclamó ella. Entonces cométalos otra vez -dijo él gravemente-. Volver a la juventud es solamente repetir sus locuras.

La tragedia de la vejez no consiste en ser viejo, sino en haber sido joven.

Oh! In what a wild hour of madness he had killed his friend! How ghastly the mere memory of the scene! He saw it all again. Each hideous detail came back to him with added horror. Out of the black cave of Time, terrible and swathed in scarlet, rose the image of his sin.

Pero, ¿y el retrato? ¿Qué iba a decir del retrato? El lienzo de Basil Hallward contenía el secreto de su vida, narraba su historia. Le había enseñado a amar su propia belleza. ¿Le enseñaría también a aborrecer su propia alma? ¿Volvería alguna vez a mirarlo?

When your youth goes, your beauty will go with it, and then you will suddenly discover that there are no triumphs left for you, or have to content yourself with those mean triumphs that the memory of your past will make more bitter than defeats.

he had been filled with terror lest other eyes should look upon it. It had brought melancholy across his passions. Its mere memory had marred many moments of joy. It had been like conscience to him. Yes, it had been conscience. He would destroy it.

To get back my youth I would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or be respectable. Youth! There is nothing like it.

It was his beauty that had ruined him, his beauty and the youth that he had prayed for. But for those two things, his life might have been free from stain. His beauty had been to him but a mask, his youth but a mockery.

But the happiness of a married man, my dear Gerald, depends on the people he has not married.

To tell is to live through it all again. Actions are the first tragedy in life, words are the second. Words are perhaps the worst. Words are merciless.

What a pity that in life we only get our lessons when they are of no use to us.

But this murder--was it to dog him all his life? Was he always to be burdened by his past? Was he really

Hallward. Had he gone to his aunt's, he would have

The tragedy of old age is not that one is old but that one is young.

you met me, flattered me, and taught me to be vain of my good looks. One day you introduced me to a friend of yours, who explained to me the wonder of youth, and you finished a portrait of me that revealed to me the wonder of beauty. In a mad moment that, even now, I don't know whether I regret or not, I made a wish, perhaps you would call it a prayer… .

There is a luxury in self-reproach.