Best 2371 quotes in «regret quotes» category

Believe in Yourself Why must we see something to believe in its existence?The wind itself cannot be seen by man, but all have felt it's gentle touch and watched the mighty trees bow as it swept past. We cannot see love yet its nurturing warmth is the essence of our being and sorrow can touch our very soul. For remorse is like a ripple on the ocean, once given it remains only in the heart of the receiver. Yet all of these cannot be seen only felt. Why then do you doubt your self-worth? For though it cannot cast a reflection in the mirror you have only to look in the eyes of those you love to See it clearly. Prologue To Kiss a King To Kiss a King Copyright © 2017 by Julie Brookshier and Robin Woods All rights reserved. Except for use in a review, the reproduction or use of this work in whole or in part in any form is forbidden without written permission of one or more of the authors. This is a fictional work. Names, characters, places, and events are merely the product of the authors' imaginations or used fictitiously, purely for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead, or undead or any business establishments, events or places past, present, or future, is entirely coincidental.

Beneath your burdensome regrets and who you think you are through the lens of past mistakes, there is someone beautiful who wants to emerge.

Besnik, tash dij diçka, që shumëkush nuk e din. Na jemi fajtorë që femnat janë ma t'ulta në sytë tanë. Tash e dij... ato qenkan si mashkujt, bile po mundkan me qenë ma burrnesha se shumë mashkuj, që e quejnë veten burra. Ti je dëshmi e gjallë. Prandaj, Besnik, mos hesht! Mos mshel gojën! Thueju të gjithëve! Thueju të gjithëve se nderi i femnës nuk mbahet me çarrshafa e peçe!

Better my right hand should have been cut off. Go know I was setting in motion events that would lead to the ruin of one of the few truly good men I ever met.

Better to say nothing at all, rather than something you'll regret.

Better to leave with good memories than have the last ones be the embarrassing, smoking ruin of what once had been a fantastic friendship.

Be who you are, don’t be a pretender, if you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember.

If There Be Sorrow If there be sorrow let it be for things undone undreamed unrealized unattained to these add one: Love withheld ... restrained

Black road wove ahead of me, Drizzling rain fell, To accompany me Someone asked for a spell. I agreed, but I forgot To see him in light of day, And then it was strange To remember the way. Like incense of thousand censers Flowed the fog And the companion bothered The heart with a song. Ancient gates I remember And the end of the way -- There the man who went with me "Forgive," did say. He gave me a copper cross Like my brother very own And everywhere I hear the sound Of the steppe song. Here I am at home like home -- I cry and I am in rue Answer to me, my stranger, I am looking for you!

BLESSINGS ARE IMMEASURABLE You can Lose a child Or a parent, The love of your life, A good job, A game, A deal, A bet, An idea, Your favorite thing, Money, Your best friend, A moment, An opportunity, A chance, Your keys, Your mind, Your health, Your identity, Your virginity, Your religion, Your shirt, Your license, ID or Passport, Phone or phone number, Hope, Faith, Luck, Your pride, Or your house, And feel like You've lost everything, And keep on losing. Stop Counting losses And start counting your blessings. Only then, Will you discover that losses Are easier to point out And count Than blessings, And that blessings Outnumber your losses For they are truly Immeasurable. It is only normal that People count losses with Their minds, And ignore To count blessings With the graciousness Of their hearts.

But as Rianne walked away from him, he could only stand there and watch, tearing at the earth with restless claws. Wishing with all his heart that he could go after her. Eiona’s presence kept him locked in place and for the first time, he found himself resenting the bond that held them so tightly together.

But as Max tugged him out the door a different feeling stole over him, something strange, behind the regret, deeper than the mourning. It wasn't until much later that he was able to identify it. Excitment.

But for her there was no possibility of a clear conscience, merely the weak absolution of honesty, of confession. She could not buy into the cycle of sin and penance. She would always remember what she had done, and it would always sting. She would not be washed clean.

But harboring regrets is making love to the past, and there is no movement here.

But it's more than a scratch it's a slap in the face and a knife in the back, it's a punch in the stomach because you'd rather believe some made up rumor than what you knew to be true. So tell me Jessica, did you drag yourself to my funeral? And what about you-the rest of you- did you drag yourself to my funeral, and if you did, did you see the scars you left? No, probably not because most of them can't been seen with the naked eye.

But it's not easy, realising how we fucked it all up. And that turns out to be the hardest thing to live with, not the regret or the fear, but the realisation that the edge is so close to where we live.

But of, but what, but whether, but who, but nevertheless, but insofar, but why, but otherwise, but even if-

But now it’s too late. And that’s why, right at this moment, I feel so much hate. Toward myself. I deserve to be on this list. Because if I hadn’t been so afraid of everyone else, I might have told Hannah that someone cared. And Hannah might still be alive. I pull my gaze back from the neon sign.

But the thing about the truth was that once you learned it, it became impossible to unlearn.

But those who forget the past, neglect the present, and fear for the future have a life that is very brief and troubled; when they have reached the end of it, the poor wretches perceive too late that for such a long while they have been busied in doing nothing.

But what if, after one small change, her life would become much worse than it was? Or unthinkable disasters result from a single step off her path?

Can one regret a thing that, however unwise, was beautiful?

But you will come to regret this, Abigail. This won’t be like one of the memories that fritters away into nothing when you come out of that game. This will leave a stain. You’ll carry for it for ever, when you could have had a few more years of blissful innocence. Are you sure, now?

By trying to export myself into a place that didn't fully exist I asked works of art to bear my expectation that they could be better than life, that they could redeem life. In fact, I believe they are, and do. My life is dedicated to that belief. But still, I asked too much of them: I asked them also to be both safer than life and fuller, a better family. That they couldn't give. At the depths I'd plumb them, so many perfectly sufficient works of art would become thin, anemic. I sucked the juice out of what I loved until I found myself in a desert, sucking rocks for water.

Cath probably should have texted Abel by now, just to tell him that she'd made it - but she wanted to wait until she felt more breezy and nonchalant. You can't take back texts. If you come off all moody and melancholy in a text, it just sits there in your phone, reminding you of what a drag you are.

Careful, Sandi. You're about to let your bulldog mouth overload your bird-dog bite.

Cemeteries are full of unfulfilled dreams... countless echoes of 'could have' and 'should have'… Don’t choose to walk the well-worn path to regret.

Consider the odd morphology of regret.

Choose to regret nothing in your life. The only thing you can change is your future.

Choose the path that's right by you. Always. It may end in misery -a small price to pay. No amount of hardship compares to the emptiness of regret. Of never having lived at all.

Death changes everyone....It changes the way you think, the way you feel, and the way you live your life. Sometimes it makes you thankful for what you have, but more often than not, it makes you regret what you've lost.

Could it really be this easy to land a handsome man? If so, why didn't I try it ages ago?

Daughter, I’m not crying now because I’m fed up or regret that the Lord created me a woman. No, it’s not that. It’s just that I’m sad about my life and my youth that have come and gone without my knowing how to live them really and truly as a woman. knowing how to live them really and truly as a woman.

Death has come and atoned for all. I have no grievance against the soul of the man before me. Instinctively do I recognise that it soars high above the gravest faults and the cruellest wrongs (and how admirable and full of significance is this instinct!). If there linger still a regret within me, it is not that I am unable to inflict suffering in my turn, but it is perhaps that my love was not great enough and that my forgiveness has come too late. …

Death can’t be cheated, but there are endless ways that life can be lived.

Diggy wished he could cut sentences out of his head the way he could cut them out of a book, then cut them in half and word by word and letter by letter until they were bits of nothing that drifted from the scissors' edges, gravity not even interested enough to pull them down.

Despite its ferocious name, or perhaps because of it, it was the head of the pack of six bars in town. The sweet smell of cider and dank cigarette smoke wafted up her nostrils. Better than Lucy’s sweaty armpits at Emberswick Bar & Grill.

Despite my pain, I felt not the regret of an ending, but the foreboding of a beginning.

Did you have any yourself?" she said. "Just one." Harold thought of David, but it was too much to explain. He saw the boy as a toddler and how his face darkened in sunshine like a ripe nut. He wanted to describe the soft dimples of flesh at his knees, and the way he walked in his first pair of shoes, staring down, as if unable to credit they were still attached to his feet. He thought of him lying in hit cot, his fingers so appallingly small and perfect over his wool blanket. You could look at them and fear they might dissolve beneath your touch. Mothering had come so naturally to Maureen. It was as if another woman had been waiting inside her all along, ready to slip out. She knew how to swing her body so that a baby slept; how to soften her voice; how to curl her hand to support his head. She knew what temperature the water should be in his bath, and when he needed to nap, and how to knit him blue wool socks. He had no idea she knew these things and he had watched with awe, like a spectator from the shadows. It both deepened his love for her and lifted her apart, so that just at the moment when he thought their marriage would intensify, it seemed to lose its way, or at least set them in different places. He peered at his baby son, with his solemn eyes, and felt consumed with fear. What if he was hungry? What if he was unhappy? What if other boys hit him when he went to school? There was so much to protect him from, Harold was overwhelmed. He wondered if other men had found the new responsibility of parenting as terrifying, or whether it had been a fault that was only in himself. It was different these days. You saw men pushing buggies and feeding babies with no worries at all.

Do not cry over spilt milk; go and milk another cow.

Don't be among those who give up early and regret later.

Do not try to take my regret from me.

Do not regret, at unfair people. Just stay fair to show yourself to be apart from them.

Don't be blurred by impulse, to avoid regrets, refrain from doing things that will make you regret.

Don’t choose to walk the well-worn path to regret.

Don't be scared," Willa Mae said. I looked at her. "Aren't you scared?" Willa Mae looked at me and said, "Shoot. Only thing I'm afraid of is that I'm going to do something I'll regret." "Being scared is just one more thing to turn into what you want it to be," Willa Mae said. "The thing with fear is, it's like anger. You've got to change it into something else. Make it your weapon. Some can just turn it into smarts. The best of 'em can turn fear and anger into love." She looked out toward our neighborhood. "I'm not there yet.

Don’t fear the future or regret the past but celebrate the present.

Don’t let the agony, regret, or fog of yesterday blind you to the fact that each new day carries with it a plethora of opportunities to move your life into the right direction.

Don’t give up on trying everyday; those who gave up yesterday are living today regretting that they never tried again and again.

Don't give yourself the opportunity to regret