My only regret with Timothy McVeigh is he did not go to the 'New York Times' Building.
Guard well within yourself that treasure, kindness. Know how to give without hesitation, how to lose without regret, how to acquire without meanness.
I usually say I did the best I could with what I had. I have no major regrets.
We must all suffer one of two things: the pain of discipline or the pain of regret or disappointment.
I regret those times when I've chosen the dark side. I've wasted enough time not being happy.
Make the most of your regrets; never smother your sorrow, but tend and cherish it till it comes to have a separate and integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh.
Life is about choices. Some we regret, some were proud of. Some will haunt us forever. 'Black Rain' was very much about choices. The message - we are what we chose to be.
Never make a defense or apology before you are accused.
A great source of calamity lies in regret and anticipation; therefore a person is wise who thinks of the present alone, regardless of the past or future.
I'd rather regret the things I have done than the things that I haven't.
Make the most of your regrets; never smother your sorrow, but tend and cherish it till it come to have a separate and integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh.
My one regret in life is that I'm not someone else.
There are no words to express my sorrow and regret for the pain I have caused others by words and actions. To the people I have hurt, I am truly sorry.
In looking back, I see nothing to regret and little to correct.
Whoever said that the past isn't dead had it backward. It's the future that's already dead, already played out.
No such thing as time travel, he'd rumbled patiently, once. Only live with what you've done, and try in the future to do what you're happy to live with.
Those hours given over to basking in the glow of an imaginedfuture, of being carried away in streams of promise by a love ora passion so strong that one felt altered forever and convincedthat even the smallest particle of the surrounding world wascharged with purpose of impossible grandeur; ah, yes, andone would look up into the trees and be thrilled by the wind-loosened river of pale, gold foliage cascading down and by thehigh, melodious singing of countless birds; those moments, somany and so long ago, still come back, but briefly, like firefliesin the perfumed heat of summer night.
Sometimes I wish life was written pencil so we could erase it and write it all over again.
You might be looking for reasons but there are no reasons.
It is with regret that I pronounce the fatal truth: Louis ought to perish rather than a hundred thousand virtuous citizens; Louis must die that the country may live
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