Sidney Sheldon Quotes

It's too late and it's too bad, don't think of me.

And it was too late. No one wants to believe something is too late, but it is always becoming too late, and then it is.

As I settled down to sleep in that new bed in the dark city, I saw that it was too late now, too late for everything. I would not be given a second chance. In the hours when I woke, I have to tell you that this struck me almost with relief.

It's much too late to save myself from falling.

Now it’s too late!

Very early in my life it was too late.

Very early in my life it was already too late.

I had planned to accomplish something considerable, and this is the end.

Waiting for the end, boys, waiting for the end.

The coming of ultimate failure we saw clearly enough, but the future beyond was a blank. The subject was naturally not a pleasant one, and by common consent it was always avoided in conversation, until at last we learned to avoid it in thought as well. We waited gloomily for the end, but did not care particularly to speculate upon the question when and how the end was to come.

Life and hope must cease together.

I'm listening to someone give up. Someone I knew—someone I liked. I'm listening... but still, I'm too late.

I have tried," I said, "but he does not believe me. It is too late for that now" (it is always too late for truth, I thought).

There's no saving me.

...this is the way fate usually treats us, it's right there behind us, it has already reached out a hand to touch us on the shoulder while we're still muttering to ourselves, It's all over, that's it, who cares anyhow.

There's no such thing as 'too late!' That's why they invented death!

No one but me can save myself though its too late, death greets me warm, now i will just say goodbye.

But the truth, he knows, is otherwise. His pleasure in living has been snuffed out. Like a leaf on a stream, like a puffball on a breeze, he has begun to float towards his end. He sees it quite clearly, and it fills him with (the word will not go away) despair. The blood of life is leaving his body and despair is taking its place, despair that is like a gas, odourless, tasteless, without nourishment. You breathe it in, your limbs relax, you cease to care, even at the moment when the steel touches your throat.

Nothing is worse and more hurtful than a happiness that comes too late.

He will understand when it is too late that it is easier to love.

Told herself likewise not to hope. But it was too late. Hope had already entered.

And were your back as broad as heaven, and your purse full of gold, and did your compassion reach from here to hell itself, there is nothing you can do.

You'll be glad too, when the end comes.