Quotes About Guilt

It is not so much who is guilty, as whose guilt is of service to you. . . we are not priests. We don't want their sort of confession. We are lawyers. We want the truth little by little and only those parts of it we can use.

I can learn to live with guilt. I don't care about being good.

I want to have some reaction. I want to tremble or feel nauseated. I want to be the person who begins to weep. I want to be anyone but the person I am, who looks around to be sure no one saw, who wipes off my knife in the dirt, wipes off my hand on his clothes, and gets out of there before the guards come.

Sometimes lying is a real pleasure.

You can always count on your family to love you. And to betray you. And then to feel guilty about it.

She sat in the dew-damp grass and ripped up clumps of it, tossing them in the air and feeling vaguely guilty about it. Some gnome ought to pop out of the tree and scold her for torturing the lawn.

He let out a hiss of pain,then smiled that crooked, sheepish smile he always fell back on when he was caught doing something bad. "Sorry. I-I didn't mean to. I just- I've been lying here for hours, thinking about blood.

After all, I'm already a murderer. No one really expects a murderer to stop killing.

But I didnt do anything wrong.." Which is stupid of course, things dont happen to people because they deserve them.

As a child, Wren read lots of fairy tales. That's why, when the monsters came, she knew it was because she had been wicked.

I know what you did," he drawled, voice low, not at all sounding like he was asking a question. "Wicked girl. Yet you let your sister take the brunt of my ire. That wasn't very nice, was it?

I wasn't kind Jude, not to many people, not to you. I wasn't sure if I wanted you 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.

The hardest part was having so much time to think. To have to make his own decisions. To wrestle with the guilt of being alive when by all rights he shouldn't have been. Vince was used to measuring out his life in small moments, never letting himself look much ahead, and never daring to look behind…And now Vince had to make plans if he was going to survive.

They'd probably be happier if he did," he told me. "I'm the reason my father is in exile. The reason my mother married him in the first place. My one sister and her girlfriend had to take care of me when I was little, even though they were barely more than kids themselves. My other sister almost got killed lots of times to keep me safe. Things will be easier without me around. They'll see that.

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.

Cuando me permito pensarlo, no puedo culpar a Locke por elegirla a ella. Soy violenta. He estado envenenandome durante semanas. Soy asesina, una mentirosa y una espia

Taryn takes a breath, as if steeling herself. "He's dead because I killed him.

His smile dimmed, and he dropped his voice to a whisper. 'This is a real secret. You can't tell anyone. When I was little, I glamoured my mortal sister. I made her hit herself, a lot of times, over and over, and I laughed while she did. It was awful of me, and I never told her that I regretted it. I am afraid of making her remember. She might get really mad.

Maybe it was the shame that was the problem.

Guilt is a good friend, isn't it? It will stand at your back when every other friend has abandoned you, and in the face of all reason it will stay by your side, and even when you tell it, "I am moving on now," it will say, "I shall never leave you; never." If only I could find a lover as faithful as guilt.

There is nothing more dread and more shameless than a woman who plans such deeds in her heart as the foul deed which she plotted when she contrived her husband's murder.

A young bride is like a plucked flower but a guilty wife is like a flower that had been walked over.

We estimate wrongdoing in proportion to the purity of our conscience

Shame, however, was what I felt seeping through me as though it stained my white bones black.