regret

If you commit then struggle to fulfill it at any cost otherwise regret it.

You see it everywhere and everyone seems to be doing it but you. You could have had it as well, and you know it, and that__ what bothers you. Your worst enemy is yourself, and sadly, you know that what you did wasn't worth what you lost.

there is no pain in leaving as in being left behind

12 Things To Ditch For A Great DayBlameGuiltWorryRegretResentmentEntitlementSelf-pityLazinessNegative attitudeFear of embarrassmentUrge to one-up othersYour comfort zone

It hurt her to stir up these feelings, but yet she knew that that was the best part of her soul, and that that part of her soul would quickly be smothered in the life she was leading.

It's important in life to conclude things properly. Only then can you let go. Otherwise you are left with words you should have said but never did, and your heart is heavy with remorse. That bungled goodbye hurts me to this day.

Regrets begin the moment we're comfortable with settling.

But now it__ too late.And that__ why, right at this moment, I feel so much hate. Toward myself. I deserve to be on this list. Because if I hadn__ 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 you will come to regret this, Abigail. This won__ be like one of the memories that fritters away into nothing when you come out of that game. This will leave a stain. You__l carry for it for ever, when you could have had a few more years of blissful innocence. Are you sure, now?

If I don't take a chance with Gavin Murphy, I think I'll always regret it.

Love passed me by and I failed to get the plates.

The more conscious I was of all the good and of all this "beautiful and lofty," the deeper I kept sinking into my mire, and the more capable I was of getting completely stuck in it. But the main feature was that this was all in me not as if by chance, but as if it had to be so. As if it were my most normal condition and in no way a sickness or a blight, so that finally I lost any wish to struggle against this blight. I ended up almost believing (and maybe indeed believing) that this perhaps was my normal condition. But at first, in the beginning, how much torment I endured in this struggle! I did not believe that such things happened to others, and therefore kept it to myself all my life as a secret. I was ashamed (maybe I am ashamed even now); it reached the point with me where I would feel some secret, abnormal, mean little pleasure in returning to my corner on some nasty Petersburg night and being highly conscious of having once again done a nasty thing that day, and again that what had been done could in no way be undone, and I would gnaw, gnaw at myself with my teeth, inwardly, secretly, tear and suck at myself until the bitterness finally turned into some shameful, accursed sweetness, and finally-into a decided, serious pleasure! Yes, a pleasure, a pleasure! I stand upon it. The reason I've begun to speak is that I keep wanting to find out for certain: do other people have such pleasures? I'll explain it to you: the pleasure here lay precisely in the too vivid consciousness of one's own humiliation; in feeling that one had reached the ultimate wall; that, bad as it is, it cannot be otherwise; that there is no way out for you, that you will never change into a different person; that even if you had enough time and enough faith left to change yourself into something different, you probably would not wish to change; and even if you did wish it, you would still not do anything, because in fact there is perhaps nothing to change into.

When I am running I inhabit and exit my body in the same moment. I bear witness to the harshest of physical sensations, even while I feel myself flying free and away. I do not want to remember what has happened to me. I do not want to reflect on the past. I can't in a way. I'm not made for regrets.

No, Sully'd decided long ago to abstain from all but the most general forms of regret. He allowed himself the vague wish that things had turned out differently, without blaming himself that they hadn't, any more than he'd blamed himself when his 1-2-3 triple never ran like it should at least once. It didn't pay to second-guess every one of life's decisions, to pretend to wisdom about the past from the safety of the present, the way so many people did when they got older.

I'd chosen the regret I could live with best, that's all. I'd chosen the life I belonged to.

Enough regret can crush any man, living or dead.

I refuse to live a life of regret. I refuse to hope things will get better in the future when I have complete control over making them the best possible right here and now. We have one life-and none of us knows how long our life will be or what will becomme of it. The possibilities are truly infinite.

I want a chance to do it all again. To do it_ right.