Quotes About Guilt

In the West we are driven by an extreme form of guilt -- if you are not seen to be working like a dog, you're perceived as being slothful.

The endless cycle of guilt: the need to escape it and the equally desperate need to cling to it.

The guilty are always the most prone to establish complementary guilt, and the most unforgiving thereafter.

Explicit sin was sweeter than mere carnality.

Behind his eyes, sluggish currents of self-dislike, guilt, and shame stirred cloudily.

Unable to confess, they had pleaded to be given peace, pleaded with tears, cries, and ghoulish murders.

So then, we are all equally guilty, every day. How, then, does one find and know peace and power in this life when surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses who only pretend to be clean by whitewashing their reputations while pointing fingers of judgment?

The old Confession was written by men who knew what it felt like to have done bad things: "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." Indeed.

A change of heart isn't really sufficient recompense for a great sin. It has to be affirmed by some kind of repentant action or the mind can't purge the guilt, and if we try to deny this, then the soul finds its own penance.

And I know I'm supposed to feel guilty for wanting people to buy my books... and books in general? Novels and poetry, they belong to the realm of art. How dirty of us to try to hawk art! But, after a decade of hand-wringing and apologies, I can't quite muster the guilt anymore.

contemplated suicide. Part of the reason was because I didn't want to go on living without my sweet baby boy. I missed him terribly and my guilt was beyond excruciating. It was the worst kind of torture imaginable. I just wanted to end my suffering.

I'm sure that DNA testing will rule Dean out as a suspect, because there's no way he could have been

This is my fault. Mine. Making her think I'd be here for her.

I'm all she's got and if I don't make it this time . . ." You'll pass through the light. A ribbon of guilt twists my stomach. I'm all Kim and Chip have too. But the difference is, they'll be better off without me.

Tus fracasos y tus culpas. Se quedan contigo. Se aglomeran y afean, crecen cancerosos dentro de ti y te dan ganas de morir.

Or was their guilt written plainly, and for all the world to see, across their face? Was it their face, in fact, for which they were guilty?

Your actions are your own. Your choices are your own. Each of us carries a burden of guilt for decisions made or not made. You can let that rule your whole life or you can put it behind you and move on. Only a madman lets jealousy determine the course of his existence. Only a weak man blames others for his own errors.

On peut être criminel sans sans avoir jamais manié une arme ou une pince-monseigneur.

Como a veces no puede dormir, en vez de contar corderitos contesta mentalmente la correspondencia atrasada, porque su mala conciencia tiene tanto insomnio como él.

Besides, not having any friends in my new school was a hundred times better than dealing with my burning sense of guilt -- guilt that I loved Punky with all my heart and yet felt ashamed of him for the first time in my life.

Sadness at being caught, at the incontrovertibe knowledge that she will never forgive you.

If, for example, your parent said, "I love you" as they punished you, or ignored you, or laid guilt on you, or shamed you, or clung to you, or abused you, then your search for God will probably lead you towards people and activities that generate the sensations associated with these feelings. And when you find them, you will probably think that you are head-over-heels in love.

What's wrong?" Jacob asked, already jogging down the steps, his hand stretched out to lighten my load if I needed it. "Hey, you okay?" No. I was a liar. And a cheater. And a coward. No different from his barista of a stepmother and his philanderer of a father.

It's okay," Mom said, instantly absolving him of any guilt. It was as if she had become so accustomed to disappointment, so inured to people reneging on their promises that she expected setbacks, heartbreak. Couldn't Merc see the panic in her eyes? Couldn't he see how she focused on me, expecting me to figure everything out?