Quotes About Remorse

So up I got in anger, And took a book I had, And put a ribbon on my hair To please a passing lad. And, "One thing there's no getting by -- I've been a wicked girl," said I; But if I can't be sorry, why, I might as well be glad!

For my omniscience paid I toll In infinite remorse of soul. All sin was of my sinning, all Atoning mine, and mine the gall Of all regret. Mine was the weight Of every brooded wrong, the hate That stood behind each envious thrust, Mine every greed, mine every lust. And all the while for every grief, Each suffering, I craved relief With individual desire, – Craved all in vain! And felt fierce fire About a thousand people crawl; Perished with each, — then mourned for all!

Parece que la quiero, Ofelia. Mil perdones, pero me

We acknowledge and bewail our manifold sins and wickedness, Which we, from time to time, most grievously have committed, By thought, word, and deed, Against thy Divine Majesty, Provoking most justly thy wrath and indignation against us. We do earnestly repent, And are heartily sorry for these our misdoings; The remembrance of them is grievous unto us; The burden of them is intolerable.

I wooed her in the wintertimeAnd in the summer too;And the only, only thing I did that was wrongWas to keep her from the foggy, foggy dew.

The man with a clear conscience probably has a poor memory.

The voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground.

We have left undone those things which we ought to have done; And we have done those things which we ought not to have done.

It had been good for that man [Judas] if he had not been born.

I shouldn't have driven home from the bar last night—especially since I walked there.

Drunk driving is a killer disease.

Then began he to curse and to swear, saying, I know not the man. And immediately the cock crew.And Peter remembered the word of Jesus… Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice. And he went out, and wept bitterly.

I admire the man who exclaimed, "I have lost a day!" because he had neglected to do any good in the course of it....

I have somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thy first love.

A guilty conscience needs no accuser.

Lá fazê-lo soube-te bem não soube? e não me soube bem fazê-lo, sabe-me bem o pó, sabia-me bem que a minha mamã, nem isso, sabia-me bem ser uma invenção de quem escreve não uma pessoa meu Deus, não me tornem pessoa, dêem-me sensações de papel, sofrimentos de papel, remorsos de papel que a gente rasga e desfaz

el silbido del jardinero, más lejano, destruía alhelíes y tulipanes en la tranquilidad sin remordimiento de los robles, yo preocupada por que el jardín no se convirtiese en una fosa común de flores difuntas

his heart laced with regret.

Who had he been? A failed father, a runaway husband. A son. A packet of unopened letters. He was dead; he was dead.

And this feeling, permeating every waking minute, that he had made too many wrong decisions.

A warrior, truly engaged, does not experience guilt, fear, or remorse. A warrior, truly engaged, becomes something more than human.

There are no more gates within him, no more divisions. It is as if everything he has done in his life has pooled together inside him and slops dully against his edges. His mother, the man he has killed, the languishing garden--he will never be able to live it down, never live through it, never live enough to compensate for all the things he has stolen.

He had tattooed all of the names of the men he had killed on his body...unfortunately he had run out of room.

I wondered now if I had behaved badly and, worse still, if I had broken something that was precious to me.