Jacqueline Carey Quotes

Guilt stirs me, but only to self-pity.

To mourn and bewail your ill-fortune, when you will gain a tear from those who listen, this is worth the trouble.

Mistakes are a drag, because you get in the area of regret and self-pity.

The difference between anger and deep remorse - remorse is much fatter. It's a deeper feeling altogether. Anger is too easy an escape for my money.

I feel bad that I don't feel worse.

People have pain - they do regrettable things, they feel shame, and shame equals pain.

You can't be angry with me, because I am a hundred times more severely punished than you, if only by the fact that I shall never see you again.

Remorse.-- Never yield to remorse, but at once tell yourself: remorse would simply mean adding to the first act of stupidity a second.

I wonder whether she was sorry for leaving us behind.

But sad as angels for the good man's sin, Weep to record, and blush to give it in.

Sorry, mom. Sorry, God.

Slight sorrow for sin is sufficient, provided it at the same time produces amendment.

She is sadder and sadder, and for a man there is no balm more soothing than the sadness he has caused a woman.

I believe that remorse is the least active of all a man's moral senses.

I have really sinned. I am going to pause now, and sit here on the mound repenting in deepest shame.

So I let her go, too. And I'm sorry.

guilt politics ... I regard as conveniently paralyzing, ripe for backlash defensiveness, counterproductive, and boring.

If I cried me a river of all my confessions, would I drown in my shallow regret?

When a friend is carried to his grave, we at once find excuses for every weakness, and palliation of every fault. We recollect a thousand endearments, which before glided off our minds without impression, a thousand favors unrepaid, a thousand duties unperformed; and wish, vainly wish, for his return, not so much that we may receive as that we may bestow happiness, and recompense that kindness which before we never understood.

Words don't come easily, like forgive me.

I am sorry," I whispered. "I am sorry for all of the ways that I failed you. I am sorry that I was not there to save you, or to die alongside you. I am sorry that I have kept you with me for so long, trapped in my heart, bound in sorrow and remorse. I forgive you too. I forgive you for leaving me, and I forgive you for returning. I forgive you your anger, and your grief. Let this be an end to it.

I am ashamed every day, and more ashamed the next.

Remorse weeps tears of blood.

Self-pity - it's the only pity that counts.

I can still see her face -- The sorrow in her eyes, her voice, as she condemns me. I didn't know it was possible to feel such shame. To feel so sick at heart. I'm lost inside, my soul -- all that I thought I was, and am, and ever will be -- shattered, cast to the winds. Compared to this, death is a mercy.