Quotes About Regretful

I haven't run across anyone in Georgia who is not regretful and repentant of man's inhumanity when you talk about owning one another.

He turned to look just in time to see the rain start falling out as if the storm had finally decided to weep with shame for what it had done to them.

This is me apologizing. I am a fool, a bird-brain, a liar and a horse-thief. I wouldn't touch a superlative again with an umbrella.

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.

For Montaigne, the death of youth, which so often takes place unnoticed is the harder death; what we habitually refer to as 'death' is no more than the death of old age...The leap from the attenuated survival of senescence into nonexistence is much easier than the sly transition from heedless youth crabbed and regretful age.

A good world needs knowledge, kindliness, and courage; it does not need a regretful hankering after the past or a fettering of the free intelligence by the words uttered long ago by ignorant men.

Some watches I bought, I think now, 'Why the hell did I pay that much for a watch?'

I can remember watching 'Lord of the Rings' and being truly regretful that I wasn't a being in that world.

I should never have switched from Scotch to Martinis.

Apologize: To lay the foundation for a future offence.

Un soldado que se culpa por la muerte de sus compañeros en la batalla es un necio.

Felicity, if I die from the effects of eating sawdust pudding, flavoured with needles, you'll be sorry you ever said such a thing to your poor old uncle, said Uncle Roger reproachfully.

I shouldn't have gone out so far, fish," he said. "Neither for you nor for me. I'm sorry, fish.

They would all be sorry... particularly the duck.

Well that was the silliest tea party I ever went to! I am never going back there again!

Sorry about your sausage dog.

He was always sorry. He always told you how sorry he was.

The great tapestries of trees had darkened to ghosts back at the last edge of twilight. The early moon had drenched the arches with pale blue, and, weaving over the night, in and out of the gossamer rifts of moon, swept a song, a song with more than a hint of sadness, infinitely transient, infinitely regretful.

I should of stood in bed.

I've always made a point of not wasting my life, and every time I come back here I know that all I've done is to waste my life.

Oh, what have I done?" "You fainted." "I—I am very sorry.

She told me the French expression [Esprit de l'escalier]—the spirit of the staircase—for the voice that catches up with you, minutes after the fact, to make fun of whatever you said and come up with the perfect answer you didn't think of. We even had our own code phrase: SOS, we called it.

God knows why I should be that foolish

My tongue goes to the Secretary of the Dead to tell the corpses, I'm sorry, fellows, the killing was just one of those things difficult to pre-visualize - like a cow, say, getting hit by lightning.