Am Sorry For Her Quotes & Sayings

I should like to remark, for the sake of princes and princesses in general, that it is a low and contemptible thing to refuse to confess a fault, or even an error. If a true princess has done wrong, she is always uneasy until she has had an opportunity of throwing the wrongness away from her by saying: 'I did it; and I wish I had not; and I am sorry for having done it.' So you see there is some ground for supposing that Curdie was not a miner only, but a prince as well. Many such instances have been known in the world's history. — George MacDonald

Hey, bro, do you think you can put Shorty back on her chain?"
I stepped forward with my hands on my hips, only slightly intimidated to find Kaleb almost eye level with me when he was seated and I was standing.
"First of all, no one is the boss of me but me. Secondly, if you ever reference my 'chain' again, I will kick your ass." I jabbed him hard in the chest with my finger. Possibly breaking it. "And thirdly, don't call me Shorty."
Kaleb sat silently for a second, his eyes wide as he looked at Michael. "Where did you get her? Can you get me one?"
I blew out a loud, frustrated sigh and dropped down beside Michael, who didn't even try to hide his smile. "You should probably apologize to Emerson."
"I am sorry." Kaleb grinned at me. "Sorry I didn't meet you first. — Myra McEntire

LAUREN: You know, Cecil, I was never a Girl Scout myself, but I can say I am thrilled to support your endeavor to help bring your niece...I'm sorry. What was her name again?
CECIL: I don't want to um -
LAUREN: Janice. It was Janice. I love the way you are taking part in Janice's life. You must really care for her.
CECIL: Yes. With all my heart. But - — Joseph Fink

One does not have to imagine people perfect in order to love them, Mr. Monk. Love acknowledges faults, weaknesses, even the need now and again for forgiveness where there is no repentance and no understanding of fault. We learn at different speeds. Elissa had many strengths, many virtues, and she was unflinchingly brave. I think she was the bravest woman I ever knew. I am truly sorry she is dead, but I cannot believe Kristian killed her, unless he has changed beyond all recognition from the man I knew. — Anne Perry

Essentially, if our secrets are secrets because we are told to be ashamed, then we must share them. There is no shame in being sad or struggling or trying to heal. We are all desperate, depraved and sacred. We are all terrible and brillIant. I can list all the things that can make a girl want to escape her own body (re: patriarchy). But I'd rather list all the things that make me want to stay in my body, and adorn it like a home, rub oils into my skin, tell it how sorry I am for trying to leave, for trying to hurt it into submission — Warsan Shire

No 'Middlemarch' for me," said Miss Barbara, with a wave of her hand. "I am too old for that. That means I've read it, my dear - the way an experienced reader like me can read a thing - in the air, in the newspapers, in the way everybody talks. No, that's not like going into a new neighborhood - that is getting to the secrets of the machinery, and seeing how everything, come the time, will run down, some to ill and harm, but all to downfall, commonplace, and prosiness. I have but little pleasure in that. And it's pleasure I want at my time of life. I'm too old to be instructed. If I have not learned my lesson by this time, the more shame to me, my dear." "But, Miss Barbara, you don't want only to be amused. Oh no: to have your heart touched, sometimes wrung even - to be so sorry, so anxious that you would like to interfere - to follow on and on to the last moment through all their troubles, still hoping that things will take a good turn." — Mrs. Oliphant

Tally yanked her hand away and stuck it behind her back. "God. I am so sorry." She'd touched him. Felt the heat of his tanned skin, felt the crisp hairs at his groin ... felt ... oh, man.
"Nice try, but no cigar. Want to go for two out of three?"
Tally closed her eyes and blew out a breath. "Oh, this day just gets better and better."
"It's certainly looking up for me." With an amused glance, the pirate hitched his shorts back over the sharp angle of his hipbones. There'd been so sign of a tan line. — Cherry Adair

Is it really for love he is going to marry you?" She asked.
I was so hurt by her coldness and scepticism that the tears rose to my eyes.
"I am sorry to grieve you," pursued the widow; "but you are so young, and so little acquainted with men, I wished to put you on your guard. It is an old saying that 'all is not gold that glitters;' and in this case I do fear there will be something found to be different to what either you or I expect. — Charlotte Bronte

If you would take one step forward, darling, you could cry in my arms. And while you do, I'll tell you how sorry I am for everything I've done -" Unable to wait, Ian caught her, pulling her tightly against him. "And when I'm finished," he whispered hoarsely as she wrapped her arms around him and wept brokenly, "you can help me find a way to forgive myself."
Tortured by her tears, he clasped her tighter and rubbed his jaw against her temple, his voice a ravaged whisper: "I'm sorry," he told her. He cupped her face between his palms, tipping it up and gazing into her eyes, his thumbs moving over her wet cheeks. "I'm sorry." Slowly, he bent his head, covering her mouth with his. "I'm so damned sorry. — Judith McNaught

There was a pause as Leopardstar strained to take a breath, and Mistyfoot half rose, ready to call for help. Then Leopardstar relaxed again. "I am sorry not to have known the joy of having kits. There was a time when I thought it might happen, but it was not to be." Her words faded away as though she was picturing something she had dreamed of long ago. "Perhaps it was for the best. But I would have been proud to call you my daughter, Mistyfoot. — Erin Hunter

She was talking too loud now, shouting almost, and a long silence followed. Why was she being like this? He was only trying to help. In what way did he benefit from this friendship? He should get up and walk away, that's what he should do. They turned to look at each other at the same time.
"Sorry," he said.
"No, I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for?"
"Rattling on like a ... .mad cow. I'm sorry, I'm tired, bad day, and I'm sorry for being ... so boring."
"You're not that boring."
"I am, Dex. God, I swear, I bore myself."
"Well you don't bore me." He took her hand in his. "You couldd never bore me. You're one in a million, Em."
"I'm not even one in three."
He kicked her foot with his. "Em?"
"What?"
"Just take it, will you? Just shut up and take it. — David Nicholls

Miss Annie, is it wrong for me to believe it was Jesus who asked my forgiveness?" I asked her.
She frowned and shook her head, "Lord, what do they teach you at that school?" she said. Then she faced me head-on. "Did God humble himself by becoming a man?" she asked, every word spoken more loudly than the one before.
"Yes, ma'am," I said. I'd never used the word ma'am before, but it seemed an excellent time to start.
"Did he humble himself by dying on the cross to show us how much he loved us? she asked, waving her spatula at me.
My eyes widened and I nodded, yes.
Miss Annie's body relaxed, and she put her hand on her hip. "So why wouldn't Jesus humble himself and tell a boy he was sorry for letting him down if he knew it would heal his heart?" she asked.
"But if Jesus is perfect
"
Miss Annie ambled the five or six feet that separated us and took my hand. "Son," she said, rubbing my knuckles with her thumb, "love always stoops. — Ian Morgan Cron

Doug returned five minutes later and shook his head. "Sorry kid. She's single, but she doesn't think you're her type. She's into the Goth and vampire scene. You're too mainstream for her." I was sipping a glass of water and nearly choked on it.
"That," said Peter, as soon as Doug was gone, "is what we call irony."
"How is that possible?" exclaimed Cody. "I am a vampire. I should be exactly what she wants."
"Yeah, but you don't look like one," I said. If Gabrielle had been a Trekkie, he might have had a shot tonight. — Richelle Mead

I'm sorry, Caulder, but I'm not ready for another relationship. I don't know if I ever will be ready." Saying this to him now hurt as much as a slug to her abdomen. But it had to be said.
"Then we don't have one. We're business partners first, and I'll respect your wishes. I won't stand in your way, and I won't pursue you. I'll pretend I don't want to kiss your lips." His eyes lingered on the aforementioned. "You being in the stands photographing or videotaping my every move will mean nothing to me." He laughed. "Dammit, I don't believe that myself. It is what it is, Velia. — Mary J. McCoy-Dressel

As Lorcan stared down at Lysandra, his blood-splattered face impassive. "Out of the way, shifter."
Lysandra had held up a slender hand- and Lorcan paused. The shape-shifter pressed her other hand against her stomach, her face blanching. But then she smiled and said, "You forgot to say 'please.' "
Lorcan's dark brows flattened. "I don't have time for this." He made to step around her, shove her aside.
Lysandra vomited black blood all over him.
Rowan didn't know whether to laught or cringe as Lysandra, panting, gaped at Lorcan, and at the blood on his neck and chest. Slowly, too slowly, Lorcan looked down at himself.
She pressed a hand over her mouth. "I am-so sorry-"
Lorcan didn't even step out of the way as Lysandra vomited on him again, black blood and bits of gore now on the warrior and on the marble floor. — Sarah J. Maas

I suggest you keep your distance from her and concentrate on your own work."
"I'm in love with her."
"I am sorry to hear that," he says. "It will make the challenge a great deal more difficult for you."
"We have been playing at this for more than a decade, when does it end?"
"It ends when there is a victor. — Erin Morgenstern

Am I supposed to say I'm sorry for what happened with Leah?"
...
"I wouldn't believe you if you did."
She smiles; it starts in her eyes and spreads slowly to her lips. — Tarryn Fisher

You selfish bitch!"
She had known for a long time that putting her needs above those of Adam's wife and children was indeed selfish. She had no real answer to the accusation thrown at her.
"I'm sorry" she said, with her head in her hands.
"you're sorry?" came her adversary's disbelieving reply.
"I am. I'm sorry he married you when he was in love with me. I'm sorry I couldn't have loved someone else. I'm sorry your marriage is a joke and I'm sorry that I'm alone. I'm sorry for a lot of things - for you, for your kids, for me and for him. I spend most of my time being sorry."
For a moment there was silence at the end of the line.
"all you had to do was stay away"
"if only I could have." tears escaped and raced down her cheeks.
"I hate you! — Anna McPartlin

You must be a terrible burden to your mother. I am feeling so sorry for her not to have a proper daughter.
Mrs. Apusenja - To the Nines — Janet Evanovich

I won't ask for forgiveness, but I am so very sorry," he said, with the simple brevity she was learning to expect. She pressed her lips into his soft, dark hair. "I know." He — Renee Ahdieh

You know,' said Natasha, 'you have read the Gospels a great deal - there is one place there directly about Sonya.' 'What?' asked Countess Marya, surprised. '"To him that hath shall be given, and from him that hath not shall be taken away." You remember? She is one that hath not; why, I don't know. Perhaps she lacks egotism, I don't know, but from her is taken away, and everything has been taken away. Sometimes I feel so terribly sorry for her. I used to want Nicolas to marry her so terribly before; but I always had a sort of presentiment that it would not happen. She is a sterile flower, you know - like some strawberry blossoms. Sometimes I am sorry for her, and sometimes I think she doesn't feel it as you or I would. — Leo Tolstoy

Half an hour into the movie, Margot started giggling, but it wasn't a funny part or anything. When Quinn looked over at her, she was covering her mouth and nose with one hand while waving the other in front of her. He couldn't hide his shock. No fucking way!
"Margot! You did not just fart!" Quinn exclaimed. He was absolutely dumbfounded. No woman has ever farted in front of him, not even his mom.
"I am sorry!" She laughed. "You would have never known if it did not smell!"
Quinn burst out laughing. He caught a whiff and laughed harder as he clapped a hand over his nose. It wasn't that bad, but he decided to play along. He was laughing so hard that he had tears running down his face. He couldn't remember the last time he laughed until he cried. Margot too was laughing so hard that she had tears running down her face. She gave him a playful shove, which only made it harder for him to breathe. — Andria Large

Sorry' he said. 'No, I'm sorry.' 'What are you sorry for?' 'Rattling on like a mad old cow. I'm sorry, I'm tired, bad day, and I'm sorry for being so ... boring.' 'You're not that boring.' 'I am, Dex. God, I swear I bore myself.' 'Well, you don't bore me.' He took her hand in his. 'You could never bore me. You're one in a million, Em. — David Nicholls

This is how foreign grace was to her, that when she heard it she mistook it for heresy. There are some people, I am sorry to say, who wouldn't recognize grace if it stood at their door wearing a name tag. — Philip Gulley

All this is simply your reaction to my Gifts. You never loved me before, not in all those years. Now that you who I
what I can do, you've convinced yourself it's more than it is. Its simple instinct."
"Perchance you're right. But the result is the same, isn't it? We were meant to be together in life. That's our law, because that is our instinct, the natural order of our kind. Strongest mates to strongest."
She took the steps necessary to stand before him. She held out a hand to him and he accepted it, lightly, his fingers cradled hers. "This is not life, Rhys."
"No." He studied their locked hands, the pulse in her wrist. "But it is still love. Just as I loved you when we were young
"
"Stop it," she whispered.
"My heart beast for you." He released her fingers and gave her that faint, sardonic smile.
"I am going to marry Hayden."
"I know. And I'm still going to love you." The smile deepened. "Sorry. — Shana Abe

Ground rules, Tanner," he growled. Tanner paled. More good. "No alcohol. No smoking. No drugs. No looking at other girls. You can dance with my daughter. Your hands will avoid the danger zones, which are here, here and here." Liam gestured to his chest, groin and ass. "You can kiss her. Once. At 10:59 p.m. tonight, when you'll be standing here once again. I will be on the other side of this door, waiting for her. Am I clear?" "Yes, sir," Tanner whispered. "I was your age once, too," Liam said. "I'm aware of that, sir." "I know what you think about." "I'm sorry." "You can think it. You can't do it." "Okay." "I have many sharp tools in my garage." "Yes, sir." "We're clear, then?" "Very, sir." "Good!" Liam smiled, then grabbed the boy by the shoulder and dragged him in. "Nicole! Your date's here. — Kristan Higgins

Try it! You might like it !! I wrote this letter to tell you that I am very, very sorry. When you are mad at me, your face looks like Daddy's when he smelled that skunk that was hiding in the garage. And this made me very sad. Your face, not the smelly skunk. Are you still mad? Pleeze circle one: YES NO If you are still mad, pleeze accept my sorryness for taking your clock, calling you a sandwich stealer, playing games on your phone and drawing my very cute face on it, and trying to call Price Princess Sugar Plum. I did not reech her. But I did reech a guy named Moe by mistake, and he was not very polite at all. He said if I reech him again he will call the cops. That would be very bad becuz I do not think they serve chicken nuggets in jail. Then I would starve to death, which would not be a very fun time . Anyway, I made this sandwich just for you because I really care about you. I hope you love it! You are my very best friend! After Miss Penelope and Princess Sugar Plum. — Rachel Renee Russell

I am very, very sorry to leave you hanging like that, but as I was writing the tale of the Baudelaire orphans, I happened to look at the clock and realized I was running late for a formal dinner party given by a friend of mine, Madame diLustro. Madame diLustro is a good friend, an excellent detective, and a fine cook, but she flies into a rage if you arrive even five minutes later than her invitation states, so you understand that I had to dash off. You must have thought, at the end of the previous chapter, that Sunny was dead and that this was the terrible thing that happened to the Baudelaires at Uncle Monty's house, but I promise you Sunny survives this particular episode. It is Uncle Monty, unfortunately, who will be dead, but not yet. — Lemony Snicket

I really am sorry for shooting you."
"Are you?"
Her touch lingered as it reached the end of the bandage, checking that it was still securely tied. "What does that mean?"
"I suspect you would shoot me all over again if you thought it would help your grandmother."
She blinked up at him, almost surprised to discover how close they were standing. "I would," She said. "But that doesn't mean I wouldn't be sorry about it afterward. — Marissa Meyer

I wish to tell her I am sorry. I wish to take this cup from her hands. I wish for things that I can never have, and in that, I think perhaps I am closer to them than I ever have been.
And still a billion light-years away. — Amie Kaufman

Nonsense Bella, it was all a misunderstanding. We just need to talk about it."
Her stunned amazement quickly gave way to anger. "I don't think I misunderstood that twenty- something coed riding you like a pony!" She nearly shouted.
"Bella, I am sorry about that, she caught me in a moment of weakness and she wouldn't take no for an answer. What was I supposed to do? I am a guy after all. — Melissa Hale

You're just going to leave me here?" I shout after her.
"I'm not leaving you here, Emma. You're keeping yourself here." She leaves me with those crazy words, and then she's gone.
I am paralyzed on the beach in my school clothes. I can't help but feel that I'm in huge trouble. But why should I? She was babysitting me, not the other way around, right? It's not like I can chase her down and follow her. Her fins have already gone a distance I can't cover with my puny human legs. Besides, these are my favorite jeans; the salt water would be unforgiving.
Except ... There is that shiny new jet ski sitting there. I could close the distance between us, put my foot in the water, and find her. She would sense me, come back to see why I was in the water. Wouldn't she? Of course she would. Then I could talk her into staying here, not leaving me alone to drive myself crazy. I could manipulate her into feeling sorry for me.
Unless she's the complete sociopath I think she is. — Anna Banks

I mean ... " Levi leaned forward, hands still fisted in his pockets. "I mean, I spent four months trying to kiss you and the last six weeks trying to figure out how I managed to fuck everything up. All I want now is to make it right, to make you see how sorry I am and why you should give me another chance. And I just want to know - are you rooting for me? Are you hoping I pull this off?"
Cath's eyes settled on his, tentatively, like they'd fly away if he moved.
She nodded her head.
The right side of his mouth pulled up.
"I'm rooting for you", she whispered.
She wasn't even sure he could hear from the bed.
Levi's smile broke free and devoured his whole face.
It started to devour her face, too.
Cath had to look away. — Rainbow Rowell

I also felt that Ron and Hermione would have gotten divorced. I'm sorry, I just do. The end of Harry Potter did feel ultimately to me ... just the fact everybody had married everybody. The books were so real and so grounded in what things are really like when you're that age, she nailed that so beautifully. And then there was this slightly fantastical ending. I know that was there for her to say, 'Really, I mean it, no more books,' but you do sort of go, people who were in a war are different from people who haven't been, and how does it affect them? But am I going to second-guess my favorite writer? I think not. — Joss Whedon

We found Trent and pulled him off the leggy girl. "Trent, it's time to get home before your parents realize we snuck out." I said.
"What?" he asked confusedly.
"Plus the bouncer found out we were sixteen and he does not look happy." Logan added.
The girl froze, "You're sixteen? What the hell. You little perv, you're going to pay for this."
Trent sputtered, "What? No."
Logan looked at her all doe eyed innocence and said "Sorry Ma'am, we have to get home now because it's past our curfew."
Trent stood open mouthed in shock but his eyes were shooting murderous rays.
So many death glares, so little time. — Amanda Kelly

I can see that I imagine all kinds of rejection that never happens. I can see that I beg and plead for love that is freely offered because I somehow believe that if I don't ask for it, everyone will forget about me: I will be a little kid sent off to sleep-away camp whose parents forget to meet her at the bus when she comes back in August. Or else I think people are nice to me only to be nice to me, that they feel sorry for me because I am such a loser- as if anyone could possibly be that generous. — Elizabeth Wurtzel

I'm sorry."
"For what?" She stood.
"I had no intention of letting that go so far."
"I had no intention of stopping until it did."
He laughed and shook his head. "You're making it hard to leave, you know."
That was her plan. Ally cocked a brow. "Am I? Sorry ... " She wasn't sorry one little bit. — Cat Johnson

I wish I could hold you,' she continued, bitterly, 'till we were both dead! I shouldn't care what you suffered. I care nothing for your sufferings. Why shouldn't you suffer? I do! Will you forget me? Will you be happy when I am in the earth? Will you say twenty years hence, "That's the grave of Catherine Earnshaw? I loved her long ago, and was wretched to lose her; but it is past. I've loved many others since: my children are dearer to me than she was; and, at death, I shall not rejoice that I are going to her: I shall be sorry that I must leave them!" Will you say so, Heathcliff? — Emily Bronte

I'm sorry ... ," I find myself saying. "I'm so sorry ... " She kisses my forehead and rocks her head against mine. She smells like rust and sweat and oil. Like home. She tells me I am her son. There is nothing to apologize for. I am safe. I am loved. The family is here. — Pierce Brown

Another voice rages.
I hate that boy! I hate me! I am so incredibly stupid!
A sunflower leans over the fence, smiling
How dare you!
I rip off its head and throw it in the gutter.
The smart thing to do is to keep going on. Walk away quickly and no one will know what I've done. But I can't move because my eyes are locked on the slowly opening front door - locked on Mrs Muir.
'I'm sorry.' My tiny voice sounds so pathetically lame, but I've still got more lameness for her. 'I never do this sort of thing. I like sunflowers. I was just angry about something - nothing to do with you or the flower. I'm really, really sorry.'
'Oh, you are upset! Well, never mind'. Mrs Muir comes closer to me. 'Goodness, we all get cross. The main thing is: did it make you feel any better?'
'No. Yes. Maybe. A little bit.'
'Would you like to do another one? There's more out the back, too. You go for your life dear. I don't mind at all - they need a good pruning. — Bill Condon

What are you looking at, Matthias?" The low thrum of her voice vibrated straight through him.
He kept his eyes on the ceiling, whispering softly. "Nothing."
"Matthias, are you praying?"
"Possibly."
"For restraint?" she said sweetly.
"You really are a witch."
"I'm not proper, Matthias."
"I am aware of this." Miserably, keenly, hungrily aware.
"And I'm sorry to inform you, but you're not proper either."
His gaze dropped to her now. "I - "
"How many rules have you broken since you met me? How many laws? They won't be the last. Nothing about us will ever be proper," she said. She tilted her face up to his. So close now it was as if they were already touching. "Not the way we met. Not the life we lead. And not the way we kiss. — Leigh Bardugo

What am I sorry for? Taking off her shirt? Kissing her until I thought I was going to lose my mind? Touching her? Feeling her? Of all the things I may be sorry for in my life, I'm honestly not sorry for any of that. — Katie McGarry

I'm confused, Beatrice," she says. "What exactly do you want us to do?"
"I didn't come here to ask you for help," I say. "I thought you should know that a lot of people are going to die, very soon. And I know you don't want to stay here doing nothing while that happens, even if some of your faction does."
She looks down, her crooked mouth betraying just how right I am.
"I also wanted to ask you if we can talk to the Erudite you're keeping safe here," I say. "I know they're hidden, but I need access to them."
"And what do you intend to do?" she says.
"Shoot them," I say, rolling my eyes.
"That isn't funny."
I sigh. "Sorry. I need information. That's all. — Veronica Roth

What about you?" I ask her. "What do you think I should read next?" She takes my hand and leads me to the children's section. She looks around for a second, then heads over to a display at the front. I see a certain green book sitting there and panic. "No! Not that one!" I say. But she isn't reaching for the green book. She's reaching for Harold and the Purple Crayon. "What could you possibly have against Harold and the Purple Crayon?" she asks. "I'm sorry. I thought you were heading for The Giving Tree." Rhiannon looks at me like I'm an insane duck. "I absolutely HATE The Giving Tree." I am so relieved. "Thank goodness. That would've been the end of us, had that been your favorite book." "Here - take my arms! Take my legs!" "Take my head! Take my shoulders!" "Because that's what love's about!" "That kid is, like, the jerk of the century," I say, relieved that Rhiannon will know what I mean. "The biggest jerk in the history of all literature, — David Levithan

I am sorry the only outlet for her troubled mind was in clumsy foreplay with an inadequate partner. He threw the rest of her sandwich at the swinging door as she passed through it. — Jennifer Armintrout

He pressed another kiss to her lips as he took her hand into his. "I'm sorry for being a jerk last night and almost making the biggest mistake of my life. I was afraid of hurting you. I know what I am and I also know you deserve a guy that can spoil you rotten and take you to all the nice places that you deserve. I-"
"Jason, I don't care about those things," she said softly.
He shook his head stubbornly. "It doesn't mean that you don't deserve them, but if you give me a chance to make up for my past stupidity, and I'm not just talking about with you, I promise that I will do my best to make you happy."
"Jason-"
"I want to try this. You and me, I mean. I know I'll most likely fuck up along the way and you'll want to ring my neck, but I want to try. I'll do my best not to hurt you. — R.L. Mathewson

I was sorry for her, as I am for any who are evicted from their haunts by the younger and stronger - always a sad occasion for man or beast. — E.B. White

No wonder Mama went away in her head when Clover passed on. And then Papa. I am going to visit my Mama tomorrow and tell her I am sorry for everything I ever did that caused her sorrow or worry, and for ever wishing, during those days, that she would come back. She probably wanted to stay there. It's a wonder she came back at all. If I knew how to make myself go away in my head, I declare I would. — Nancy E. Turner

I am sorry for your loss." "I had a new hand made, of gold." He showed her. "Very nice. Will they make you a gold father too?" Lady Genna's voice was sharp. "Tywin was the loss I meant. — George R R Martin

You have no reason to be sorry for anything, ma petite."
Her clenched fist lay over his heart, the three diamonds in her palm. "You think I can't read your body? Feel the heaviness in your mind as you try to shield me? I can't change who I am, not even for you. I know I'm failing you, causing you discomfort."
A slow smile curved his mouth. Discomfort. Now,there was a word for it. His hand crushed her hair, ran it through his fingers. "I have never asked you to change, nor would I want you to. You seem to forget that I know you better than anyone. I can handle you."
She turned her head so that he could see the silver stars flashing in her blue eyes, a smoldering warning. "You are so arrogant,Gregori, it makes me want to throw things.Do you hear yourself? Handle me? Ha! I try to say I'm sorry for failing you, and you act the lord of the manor. Being born centuries ago when women were chattel does not give you an excuse. — Christine Feehan

Princess Caspida, I have nothing but respect and admiration for you. Truly you will be the queen this city needs. But I can't marry you."
The princess stands still as stone, her face unreadable. "Why not, Prince Rahzad?"
"I am sorry," he replies. "The truth is, I am in love, but not with you."
He turns to me, and my spirit takes flight like a flock of doves, startled and erratic. I cannot move, cannot speak, as he takes my hands in his and looks me earnestly in the eye. He presses the ring into my palm, and the gold feels as if it burns my skin.
"This belongs to you, and you alone. I've been so blind, Zahra. So caught up in the past that I've failed to see what's happening in front of me. I've been such an idiot, I don't know how I can expect anything from you. But I have to try. I have to tell the truth, and the truth is . . . I love you. — Jessica Khoury

I'm really sorry, Jess, but she's going to have to have your room.'

'My room?' exploded Jess. 'There's a perfectly good spare room upstairs!'

'Yes, but you see, darling, Granny can't manage stairs quite so easily anymore. Since Grandpa died and she had that fall, you know- well, her house is too much for her to manage on her own. [...] Granny has to be on the ground floor, love. She can use the groundfloor loo, and we'll convert the old coal shed at the back into a bathroom.'

Jess was too furious to speak. No, wait, she wasn't. 'Where am I supposed to sleep then?' she snapped. 'Out on the pavement? — Sue Limb

Here I should like to remark, for the sake of princes and princesses in general, that it is a low and contemptible thing to refuse to confess a fault, or even an error. If a true princess has done wrong, she is always uneasy until she has had an opportunity of throwing the wrongness away from her by saying: 'I did it; and I wish I had not; and I am sorry for having done it. — George MacDonald

And I am always flattered," Rusty continued, "but I love my sister. Not in an 'I love my sister and I want to make out with her' way, that would be terrible and disturbing, but in an 'I love my sister, and I'm not going anywhere near the girl she likes' way. Be a big mess. Life is hard for me, with all my irresistible sexual magnetism. It's a real problem, almost as bad as the fact that my steps are now the number one crying spot in Sorry-in-the-Vale. I have to maintain control of the situation at all times or my life would devolve into a nonstop romantical frenzy". — Sarah Rees Brennan

No, of course not," Belle said, playfully swatting him on the shoulder. "I never, never even once thought I was making a mistake. I was just a bit at odds with myself because my wedding wasn't exactly how I dreamed it was going to be."
"I'm sorry," John said softly.
"No, no, don't be. Just because it wasn't what I thought I wanted doesn't mean it wasn't absolutely perfect. Oh, dear, am I making any sense at all.?"
John nodded solemnly.
"I thought that I needed a church and hundreds of guest and music that actually sounded like music, but I was wrong. What I needed was a drunken priest, irreverent guests, and a companion who learned to play piano from a goat."
"Then you got exactly what you needed."
"I suppose so. But then again, all I really needed was you."
John leaned down to kiss her again, and they remained thus occupied for the next hour. — Julia Quinn

I am sorry for your disappointment,' he continued, glancing into her face. Their eyes having met, became, as it were, mutually locked together, and the single instant only which good breeding allows as the length of such a look, became trebled: a clear penetrating ray of intelligence had shot from each into each, giving birth to one of those unaccountable sensations which carry home to the heart before the hand has been touched or the merest compliment passed, by something stronger than mathematical proof, the conviction, 'A tie has begun to unite us.' Both faces also unconsciously stated that their owners had been much in each other's thoughts of late. Owen had talked to the young architect of his sister as freely as to Cytherea of the young architect. — Thomas Hardy

Don't look so sad," she said. Her eyes were full of tears.
"I can't help it," he said. "I am sad."
"I'm sorry I've made you so unhappy."
"Don't be sorry for that. Be sorry that you made me so happy. That's what hurts, woman. That you made me so happy. — Ken Follett

I am so sorry for you, Leslie.' She said it like she really meant it. But not like she was completely surprised. 'And for him. Because he's lost you now.' This last part undid me. Despite her cruel criticism of me over the years, from where she sat, I was anyone and everyone's prize. — Leslie Morgan Steiner

watch the goshawk snip, tear and wrench flesh from the rabbit's foreleg. I feel sorry for the rabbit. Rabbit was born, grew up in the field, ate dandelions and grass, scratched his jaw with his feet, hopped about. Had baby rabbits of his own. Rabbit didn't know what lonely was; he lived in a warren. And rabbit is now just a carefully packed assemblage of different kinds of food for a hawk who spends her evenings watching television on the living-room floor. Everything is so damn mysterious. Another car passes. Faces turn to watch me crouched with rabbit and hawk. I feel like a tableau at a roadside shrine. But I'm not sure what the shrine is for. I'm a roadside phenomenon. I am death to community. I am missing the point. — Helen Macdonald

Did he have to be so intimidating? Carpathian males were all enormously strong; they didn't need to look it. There was no need for his huge chest and bulging arms and thighs like oak trees. She had started out with bravado, determined not to be intimidated, but he was power personified.
"I am reading your mind," he mentioned softly.
She hated her traitorous body, the way it dissolved at the sight of him and the sound of his velvet, caressing voice. "I told you to stay out of my mind."
"It is a habit, ma petite."
She flung another pillow at him. "Don't you dare bring up the wolf. I'm sure our laws forbade such a thing. You're a cad, Gregori, and you're not even sorry."
"Remove your clothes, Savannah. — Christine Feehan

Maddie squirmed out from under him. "I'm sorry. So sorry. I know this is supposed to be physical. Impersonal. It's only that I keep thinking of lobsters."
He flipped onto his back and lay there, blinking up at the ceiling. "Until just now, I would have said there was nothing remaining that could surprise me in bed. I was wrong."
She sat up, drawing her knees to her chest. "I am the girl who made up a Scottish lover, wrote him scores of letters, and kept up an elaborate ruse for years. Does it really surprise you that I'm odd?"
"Maybe not."
"Lobsters court for months before mating. Before the male can mate with her, the female has to feel secure enough to molt out of her shell. If a spiny sea creature is worth months of effort, can't I have just a bit more time? I don't understand the urgency. — Tessa Dare

I never change.
MRS. CHEVELEY: (elevating her eyebrows) Then life has taught you nothing?
LADY CHILTERN: It has taught me that a person who has once been guilty of a dishonest and dishonorable action may be guilty of it a second time, and should be shunned.
MRS. CHEVELEY: Whould that rule apply to everyone?
LADY CHILTERN: Yes, to everyone, without exception.
MRS. CHEVELEY: Then I am sorry for you, Gertrude, very sorry for you. — Oscar Wilde