Oscar Wilde Quotes

I said hello unnoticed, you said good-bye too soon.

Ian Fleming was my cousin, and he wanted me to play Dr. No, but by the time he got around to remembering to tell the producers, they'd already cast someone else. Spilt milk!

the instant he knew he loved her, she slipped down his body and out of his arms

And as the bullet ripped through his flesh, Ralston was consumed by a single thought: I never told her that I loved her.

Sometimes two people will regard each other over a gulf too wide to ever be bridged, and know immediately what could have happened, and that it never will.

If we miss this chance to make a fresh start, we may look back on this moment from some later vantage point and realize how much that failure cost us all.

That's the illusion - the idea that you can be all right on the inside and not act it out - and it has affected us in many ways. That's a part of the idea that professing is enough.

Looking at the ball going over the fence isn't going to help.

I'll never forgive myself if we don't go all the way tonight.

Just supposing," he said, "just supposing" --he didn't know what was coming next, so he thought he'd just sit back and listen--"that there was some extraordinary way in which you were very important to me, and that, though you didn't know it, I was very important to you, but it all went for nothing because we only had five miles and I was a stupid idiot at knowing how to say something very important to someone I've only just met and not crash into lorries a the same time, what would you say..." He paused, helplessly, and looked at her. "I should do.

Those moments in between the moments, those are the most interesting. What's unspoken, the way we talk around things, the way our actions are inconsistent with what we're feeling, how anger and affection manifest themselves in strange ways at inappropriate times.

Some people spend the whole of their lives sitting waiting for one train, only to find that they never even made it to the station.

The touch was exactly what the touch of a lover's hand should be: familiar, yet exciting as a whispered promise. I felt an almost irresistible urge to take her hand and place it flat against my chest, near my heart. Maybe I should've done it. I know now that she would've laughed, if I'd done it, and she would've liked me for it. But strangers that we were then, we stood for five long seconds and held the stare, while all the parallel worlds, all the parallel lives that might've been, and never would be, whirled around us.

In another life, I would be your girl, we keep all our promises, the us against the world, In another life, I would make you stay, So I don't have to say you were the one that got away the one that got away

...there was a blond misty boy sitting beside me, and he looked at me, and I at him, and we were not strangers: our hands moved towards each other to embrace. I never heard his voice, for we did not speak; it is a shame, I should so like the memory of it. Loneliness, like fever, thrives on night, but there with him light broke, breaking in the trees like birdsong, and when sunrise came, he loosened his fingers from mine, and walked away, that misty boy, my friend.

To come across a Master and to miss the Master is the greatest accident, very unfortunate, that can happen to a man.

She nodded... and was about to turn away. Then, as if she thought better of it, she reached out and grabbed his arm. "Jack." "Yes?" "I. . ." she faltered. She knew what she wanted to tell him, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words. It turned out she didn't have to. Jack put a hand to his heart and nodded. "I feel the same way about you.

To each there comes in their lifetime a special moment when they are figuratively tapped on the shoulder and offered the chance to do a very special thing, unique to them and fitted to their talents. What a tragedy if that moment finds them unprepared or unqualified for that which could have been their finest hour.

I've never been lucky. The day my ship came in, I was at the airport.

Somewhere we went wrong Our love is like a song But you won't sing along Have you forgotten About us

What a terrible thing, I thought, to let a moment go.

We were never lovers, and we never will be, now. I do not regret that, however. I regret the conversations we never had, the time we did not spend together. I regret that I never told him that he made me happy, when I was in his company. The world was the better for his being in it. These things alone do I now regret: things left unsaid. And he is gone, and I am old.

What is opportunity to the man who can't use it? An unfecundated egg, which the waves of time wash away into nonentity.

Most of us fear reaching the end of our life regretting moments when we didn't speak up, say I love you, or say I'm sorry.

Maybe they would look at each other and feel some odd yearning, but neither of them would know why. They would want to stop, but they would be embarrassed, and neither would know what to say. They would go their separate ways. Who knew? Maybe that happened every day to people who'd once loved each other.