Quotes About Regret

I spent all this time building a relationship. Then one night I left the window open, and it started to rust.

I reach out my hand to say I'm sorry. He takes it, but gives nothing else away.

There are times when I doubt everything. When I regret everything you've taken from me, everything I've given you, and the waste of all the time I've spent on us

Women were more likely to regret sexual acts of commission, such as losing virginity to the wrong person, hooking up with a person with low mate value when drunk, and having sex with someone who was not interested in a relationship.

Women are more likely than men to experience negative emotions after a hookup. Men are more likely to regret when the woman they hooked up with wants a more serious relationship. Men report that their ideal outcome of a hookup would be more hookups in the future. Women are more likely to report that their ideal outcome would be a romantic relationship. Following hookups, women are more likely than men to report feeling "used" and experiencing depressed mood.42

How could he ever scorn Henoch? It's normal enough to grow a bit impatient with the boy from time to time. Or so he hopes. But to banish Henoch from sight, the way his own father banished him --- the very idea causes his insides to clench up. He could never do such a thing.

He considers turning back but he knows what lies behind him and he wants no part of it. Just as it wants no part of him.

However the story is told and elaborated, the raw shame of it will be with him now til his last breath.

If I could go back would I do it differently? Well, I can't go back.

Helen ran off with a lover only once in her life herself, and for three thousand years nobody would ever let her forget about it.

It is the accumulated pressure of feelings that causes thoughts. One feeling, for instance, can create literally thousands of thoughts over a period of time. Think, for instance, of one painful memory from early life, one terrible regret that has been hidden. Look at all the years and years of thoughts associated with that single event. If we could surrender the underlying painful feeling, all of those thoughts would disappear instantly and we would forget the event.

He looked as though his life had not only passed him by but paused along the way to spit in his face.

When her muzzle grew more white than brown, the chipmunk forgot that she and the squirrel had had nothing to talk about. She forgot the definition of jazz as well and came to think of it as every beautiful thing she had ever failed to appreciate: the taste of warm rain; the smell of a baby; the din of a swollen river, rushing past her tree and onward to infinity.

I hoped our lives would continue this way forever, but inevitably the past came knocking. Not the good kind that was collectible but the bad kind that had arthritis.

I don't know that it had anything to do with us," my father said. But how could it have not? Doesn't the blood of every suicide splash back on our faces?

There are things you forget naturally-computer passwords, your father's continuing relationship with life-and then there are things you can't forget that you wish you could.

I think about death all the time, but only in a romantic, self-serving way, beginning, most often, with my tragic illness and ending with my funeral. I see my brother squatting beside my grave, so racked by guilt that he's unable to stand. "If only I'd paid him back that twenty-five thousand dollars I borrowed," he says. I see Hugh, drying his eyes on the sleeve of his suit jacket, then crying even harder when he remembers I bought it for him.

What looks good now is guaranteed to embarrass you twenty years down the line, which is, of course, the whole problem with fashion.

She hit bottom when she physically attacked a deaf-mute. This was a boy of fourteen, a beloved neighborhood figure who delivered for the nearby deli.

On a recent flight from Tokyo to Beijing, at around the time that my lunch tray was taken away, I remembered that I needed to learn Mandarin. "Goddamnit," I whispered. "I knew I forgot something.

Then I met a woman named Janine who was bitten and had to spend a week in the hospital. "It was completely my own fault," she said. "I shouldn't have been wearing sandals." "It didn't have to strike you," I reminded her. "It could have just slid away." Janine was the type who'd likely blame herself for getting mugged. "It's what I get for having anything worth taking!" she'd probably say.

Were it not for Sorry! I'd never have known that Kathy's mother shot a kitten in the head.

bowl. It was disgusting to think that this was what a gumdrop might look like in your stomach, and it was insulting to be told not to take too much of something you didn't really want in the first place.

Like many good biography subjects, she became a mess toward the end of her life.