Quotes About Regret

If you regret your move, make another. There are games yet to play.' 'I already won,' I remind him.

Love is stupid. All we do is break one another's heart." - Heather

Exactly,' Cardan says, reaching out a finger to trace the shape of my ear. The curve, I realise. I shudder, eyes closing against the hot spike of shame. He keeps talking, but he seems to realise what he's been doing and snatches his hand away. Now we're both ashamed.

I am overcome with a feeling of nostalgia for something I haven't yet lost.

If you regret your move, make another. There are games yet to play.

I wasn't kind, Jude. Not to many people. Not to you. I wasn't sure if I wanted you or if I wanted gone from my sight so that I would stop feeling as I did, which made me even more unkind. But when you were gone- truly gone beneath the waves- I hated myself as I never have before.

Te arrepentirás de esto». No lo digo en voz alta, pero miro a Cardan y pienso esas palabras con tanta fuerza que es casi como si estuviera gritando.

Mother Marrow gestures to the soup, and I, who can afford no more enemies, bring it to my lips. It tastes of a memory I cannot quite place, warm afternoons and splashing in pools and kicking plastic toys across the brown grass of summer lawns. Tears spring to my eyes. I want to spill it out in to the dirt. I want to drink it down to the dregs.

A ti no te limita ningún juramento. Si te arrepientes de tu jugada, haz otra. Aún quedan muchas partidas que jugar».

There's always something left to lose

For a moment, Cardan just stares at me with stupid, crow-black eyes. Then one corner of his mouth curls. "Oh," he says. "You're going to regret doing that." I don't think he realizes just how angry I am or how good it feels, for once, to give up on regrets.

My sister thinks that she's the only one who can take poison, but I am poison,' he whispers, eyes half-closed, talking to himself. 'Poison in my blood. I poison everything I touch.' That's such a strange thing to hear him say. Everyone adores him. And yet, I recall him running away at thirteen, sure so many things were his fault.

I think he was flirting with me. I don't even remember deciding to hit him.

When I allow myself to truly think on it, I cannot fault Locke for choosing her. I am violent. I've been poisoning myself for weeks. I am a killer and a liar and a spy. I get why he chose her. I just wish she had chosen me.

For the first time, I see the panic on his face, the sort that he ought to have felt all along. Too late, and part of him knows it. But he denies it a moment later, the knowledge surfacing and being shoved back down. Some things seem too terrible to seem possible.

Cardan looks at me with helpless rage... The fury in his eyes is familiar, the glitter of them like banked fire, like coals burning hotter than flames ever could. This time I deserve it. I promised he was going to be able to walk away from the Court and all its manipulations. I promised he would be free from all this. I lied.

I promised he would be free from all this. I lied.

I will make him proud of me. Everyone else, I will make very, very sorry.

But when you were gone-truly gone beneath the waves-I hated myself as I never have before.

I keep my head down, as I probably should have done in the first place. And if I curse Cardan, then I have to curse myself, too, for being the fool who walked right into the trap he set for me.

We should have called truce, he'd said, brushing back his ink-black hair impatiently. We should have called truce long before this. But neither of us called it, not then, not after.

The feeling of being fooled, the shame of it, haunts me. It tangles up my thoughts.

Having only recently stopped playing the villain, Cardan thinks again of the winding path of decisions that bought him to this unlikely place, here with her, racing over the sky, planning to end trouble, instead of making more of it.

I can see when the light goes out of his eyes, like a torch thrown into the sea.