Quotes About Remorse

Agenbite of inwit. Conscience.

How do you explain to yourself the casual manner in which you threw your life away?

Guilt says, "I did a bad thing." Shame says, "I am a bad person.

belki onun tepkisi de benimki gibi olur, diyordum içimden. belki bütün bu cinayetleri asl?nda olduÄŸu gibi bencilce yap?lm?? bir kötülük olarak görmek yerine kötü, ac?kl? ve hatta pitoresk bir vahÅŸet olarak görürdü. (''ben hayatta her ÅŸeyi yapt?m,'' diye böbürlenmez miydi yaÅŸl? tolstoy, ''bir adam bile öldürdüm.'')

Forgive me for all the things I did but mostly for the things I did not.

I can't believe you two," Henry said crossly. "I reminded you of this last night." "But we forgot," said the twins, in simultaneous despair. "How could you?" "Well, if you wake up intending to murder someone at two o'clock, you hardly think what you're going to feed the corpse for dinner." "Asparagus is in season," said Francis helpfully.

You know that thing Julian used to say,' said Francis. 'Which thing?' 'About a Hindu saint being able to slay a thousand on the battlefield and it not being a sin unless he felt remorse.

It's a terrible thing, what we did," said Francis abruptly. "I mean, this man was not Voltaire we killed. But still. It's a shame. I feel bad about it.

It's painful thinking of the people one has been cruel to.

After all, he thinks conscience is a sort of vermiform appendix. Chop it out and you'll feel all the better.

Remorse is eating his soul like a caterpillar in a cabbage.

You were perfectly fine.

Honest, I won't ever do it again. I'll go straight, after this. I'll never go to bed again, if I can only sleep now.

Arthur woke up and instantly regretted it.

If only... the two most miserable words in the English language. If only.

When deep slumber falls, remembered sins Chafe the sore heart with fresh pain, and no Welcome wisdom meets within.

One little Indian left all alone, he went out and hanged himself and then there were none.

I have no pity for myself either. So let it be Veronal. But I wish Hercule Poirot had never retired from work and come here to grow vegetable marrows.

I demand of you a thousand pardons, monsieur. I am without defence. For some months now I cultivate the marrows. This morning suddenly I enrage myself with these marrows. I send them to promenade themselves - alas! not only mentally but physically. I seize the biggest. I hurl him over the wall. Monsieur, I am ashamed. I prostrate myself.

But some people, I suspect, remain morally immature. They continue to be aware that murder is wrong, but they do not feel it. I don't think, in my experience, that any murderer has really felt remorse … And that, perhaps, is the mark of Cain. Murderers are set apart, they are 'different'—murder is wrong—but not for them—for them it is necessary—the victim has 'asked for it,' it was 'the only way.

For, once there's a death, one doesn't like to think there's been harsh words spoken and no chance of taking them back.

One little soldier boy left all alone; He went and hanged himself and then there were None.

Old sins have long shadows.

Oude zonden hebben lange schaduwen.