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Quotes about Regret

When she looked in the glass and saw her hair grey her cheek sunk, at fifty, she thought, possibly she might have managed things better--her husband; money; his books. But for her own part she would never for a single second regret her decision, evade difficulties, or slur over duties
— Virginia Woolf
Her mind was like her room, in which lights advanced and retreated, came pirouetting and stepping delicately, spread their tails, pecked their way; and then her whole being was suffused, like the room again, with a cloud of some profound knowledge, some unspoken regret, and then she was full of locked drawers, stuffed with letters, like her cabinets.
— Virginia Woolf
But suddenly it would come over her, if he were with me now what would he say? Some days, some sights bringing him back to her calmly, without the old bitterness; which perhaps was the reward of having cared for people; they came back in the middle of St. James's Park on a fine morning—indeed they did.
— Virginia Woolf
We saw for a moment laid out among us the body of the complete human being whom we have failed to be, but at the same time, cannot forget.
— Virginia Woolf
When armies are mobilized and issues joined,The man who is sorry over the fact will win.
— Lao Tzu
"It wasn't the wine," murmured Mr. Snodgrass, in a broken voice. "It was the salmon."
— Charles Dickens
"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past." "Long past?" inquired Scrooge…. "No. Your past."
— Charles Dickens
No space of regret can make amends for one life's opportunity misused
— Charles Dickens
Take the pencil and write under my name, 'I forgive her.
— Charles Dickens
We need be careful how we deal with those about us, when every death carries to some small circle of survivors, thoughts of so much omitted, and so little done- of so many things forgotten, and so many more which might have been repaired! There is no remorse so deep as that which is unavailing; if we would be spared its tortures, let us remember this, in time.
— Charles Dickens
Drive him fast to his tomb. This, from Jacques.
— Charles Dickens
Oh! captive, bound, and double-ironed," cried the phantom, "not to know, that ages of incessant labour, by immortal creatures, for this earth must pass into eternity before the good of which it is susceptible is all developed. Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness. Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one life's opportunity misused!
— Charles Dickens