#regret

We very much regret that our merger with Sprint was not allowed to proceed. ↗

— Bernard Ebbers

#merger #much #our #proceed #regret

Look in my face; my name is Might-have-been; I am also call'd No-more, Too-late, Farewell; ↗

— Dante Gabriel Rossetti

#regret #life

Looking back on my life, I sigh. The caprice of youth goes with the wind, I’ve no regrets. ↗

— Roman Payne

#carpe-diem #great #learning #life #life-lessons

Of course married life is merely a habit, a bad habit. But then one regrets the loss even of one's worse habits. ↗

— Oscar Wilde

#marriage #regrets #life

Let's live to regret this" (Martin Riggs [Mel Gibson] to Lorna Cole [Rene Russo] in Lethal Weapon 3) ↗

— Martin Riggs

#life-living #regret #life

Things always happen for a reason, that’s what everybody says.” “But often, not for the reasons we wanted.” “Yeah, it’s like a rule of life, or something.” Dia menghela napas. “But I think believing that things happen for a reason makes it easier for us to keep going. Dengan menerima kenyataan, kita akan lebih mudah bergerak maju, mengecilkan ruang untuk rasa sesal. ↗

— Winna Efendi

#life

i dont love you... like i loved you... yesterday. ↗

— Gerard Way

#regret #time #love

Regrets of the past can be turned into seeds to grow a more positive future or unlearned, doomed to repeat the same. ↗

— Tambré Bryant

#life

She knew this man's smile, his gentle ways of love, but not his godlike fury in the storm. She might snare him in a fragile net of music, love and flowers, but, at each departure, he would break forth without, it seemed to her, the least regret. ↗

— Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

#love #music #night-flight #regret #love

Those hours given over to basking in the glow of an imagined future, of being carried away in streams of promise by a love or a passion so strong that one felt altered forever and convinced that even the smallest particle of the surrounding world was charged with purpose of impossible grandeur; ah, yes, and one would look up into the trees and be thrilled by the wind- loosened river of pale, gold foliage cascading down and by the high, melodious singing of countless birds; those moments, so many and so long ago, still come back, but briefly, like fireflies in the perfumed heat of summer night. ↗

— Mark Strand

#nostalgia #poetry #regret #imagination