Don't Tell Me Sorry Quotes & Sayings

But hey, if there's one bright side to your dying, it's that you aren't around to tell me things I don't like hearing. I'm sorry. That was a dickhead thing to say. I need a condom for my mouth. — Adam Silvera

Will: "You are not really dying, are you?"
Jem: "So they tell me."
Will: "I am sorry."
Jem: "No. Don't be ordinary like that. Don't say you're sorry. Say you'll train with me."
Will: "I'll train with you. — Cassandra Clare

You'll be sorry some day. Why don't you ever understand what I'm trying to tell you: it's with your six sense that you're fooled into believing not only that you have six senses, but that you contact an actual outside world with them. If it wasn't for your eyes, you wouldn't see me. If it wasn't for your ears, you wouldn't hear that airplane. If it wasn't for your nose, you wouldn't smell that midnight mint. If it wasn't for your tongue taster, you wouldn't taste the difference between A and B. If it wasn't for your body, you wouldn't feel Princess. There is no me, no airplane, no mind, no Princess, no nothing, you for krissakes do you want to go on being fooled every damn minute of your life? — Jack Kerouac

I replaced my lip with my thumb as my nervous chewing object. "I've taken over your workspace. Your hours. Your life."
"You've taken over the very heart of me. Blah, blah. What do you want to do about it?" He tilted his head and drew his ribbon through his fingers. "No, I'll tell you what I want. I wa-"
"I'm sorry!"
"Do you hear me complaining, Crown? Do you actually know me to do anything I don't want to do? — Anne Zoelle

I know I usually come down here to tell you I'm sorry. But I think today I want to tell you that I'm going to be all right. Don't let me be one of the things that keeps you from peace, Mother. I'm all right. — Rainbow Rowell

Sorry," he said, not sounding very sorry at all. "I ... well, nevermind."
"Nevermind?" I couldn't help but sneer. "You just broke into my uncle's lighthouse. Don't you tell me to nevermind. — Karina Halle

But if you believe in heaven then you have to believe someone's keeping score. And if someone's keeping score, if what we do really matters, then life ought to be fair. And I'm sorry it isn't. Shitty things happen to good people, and bad people never get what's coming to them. Don't tell me that there is a heaven as some sort of perverse reward for being good. That is bullshit of the highest caliber — Cassie Alexander

Well, that was a bit stupid of you," said Ginny angrily, "seeing as you don't know anyone but me who's been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels."
Harry remained quite still as the impact of these words hit him. Then he turned on the spot to face her.
"I forgot," he said.
"Lucky you," said Ginny coolly.
"I'm sorry," Harry said, and he meant it. — J.K. Rowling

You done with work?
Yep, at home waiting for you.
Now that's a nice visual ...
Prepare yourself, I'm taking bread out of the oven.
Don't tease me woman ... zucchini?
Cranberry orange. Mmmm ...
No woman has ever done breakfast bread foreplay the way you do.
Ha! When you coming?
Can't. Drive. Straight.
Can we have one conversation when you're not twelve?
Sorry, I'll be there in 30
Perfect, that will give me time to frost my buns.
Pardon me?
Oh, didn't I tell you? I also made cinnamon rolls.
Be there in 25. — Alice Clayton

Reaching Out
I have given so much to things that weren't worth my time. When all along, it's the people I love that I should have carried. It's the ones I cared for whom I should have been responsible.
But maybe I'm too late. Because I don't know how to talk to you. I don't know how to ask you if you're okay. I don't know how to tell you I am so afraid of losing you. How much light would leave my life if you were no longer part of it.
I just hope you realize how much you mean to me. I just wish I could remind you of how beautiful you are. I'm sorry I haven't told you in so long. But please don't think I have given up on you. I will never give up on you. My arms are wide open. There is always a place for you here. — Lang Leav

So why don't you tell him you're sorry?" Gaby suggested.
"Uh ... because he probably never wants to speak to me again?"
"How do you know? Do you have a fifth sense too?"
Scarlett sighed. "No. And I think that's sixth sense."
"No, I don't see dead people. It's different. — Lauren Conrad

I'm so sorry ... just please ... stay. Just tell me the truth, just tell me what happened. I don't care, I'm not going to let him hurt you anymore. Listen to me, I'm in love with you. If you stay I promise there's no safer place in the world than with me. You don't have to be scared ... I love you ... please stay. — Nicholas Sparks

Wrong again. I'll tell you, shall I?" The djinni fixed him with its black-eyed stare. "You knocked yourself out, like the idiot you are. The golem was approaching, doubtless planning to take the Staff and crush your head like a melon. It was foiled - "
"By your prompt action?" Nathaniel said. "If so, I'm grateful, Bartimaeus."
"Me? Save you? Please - someone I know might be listening. No. My magic is canceled out by the golem's, remember? I sat back to watch the show. In fact ... it was the girl and her friend. They saved you. Wait - don't mock! I do not lie. The boy distracted it while the girl climbed on the golem's back, tore the manuscript from its mouth, and threw it to the ground. Even as she did so, the golem seized her and the boy - incinerated them in seconds. Then its life force ebbed and it finally froze, inches from your sorry neck. — Jonathan Stroud

Hardy! Hardy - " He had come for me. I nearly lost it then. In the wild torrent of relief and gratitude, there were at least a dozen things I wanted to tell him at once. But the first thing that came out was a fervent, "I'm so sorry I didn't have sex with you."
I heard his low laugh. "I am too. But honey, there are a couple of maintenance guys with me who can hear every word we're saying."
"I don't care," I said desperately. "Get me out of here and I swear I'll sleep with you. — Lisa Kleypas

I told you the truth at the bridge. I don't have a good excuse. Blame it on a bad mood." Tate dips his chin, and his grin shoots my heart to the ceiling. "If I tell you I'm sorry a hundred more times, will you forgive me? 'Cause I'll do it, if that's what it takes. — Jennifer Archer

I can't really tell objectively how sorry I should feel for myself. I don't give the same credibility to my being that other people give to theirs. Everything feels acted."
"Everything is acted."
"Whatever. With me there's some glue missing, something fundamental to everyone else that I don't have. My life never seems real to me. — Philip Roth

I'm sorry, Lord Rahl, but I don't think you are the kind of man who would want me to tell you anything other than the truth." Richard stared into Samantha's dark eyes. "No, I wouldn't. Only the truth can help us. — Terry Goodkind

Sorry to wake you, but we have to be somewhere soon, remember?"
Ash grunted and, to my surprise, shifted to his back and put the pillow over his head. "I don't suppose I could convince you to go without me," he groaned, his voice muffled beneath the fabric. "Tell Mab I've been eaten by a manticore or something? — Julie Kagawa

I encourage film students who are interested in cinematography to study sculpture, paintings, music, writing and other arts. Filmmaking consists of all the arts combined. Students are always asking me for advice, and I tell them that they have to be enthusiastic, because it's hard work. The only way to enjoy it is to be totally immersed. If you don't get involved on that level, it could be a very miserable job. I only have one regret about my career: I'm sorry that we are not making silent movies any more. That is the purest art form I can imagine. — Vilmos Zsigmond

I wasn't saying whatever they're saying I was saying. I'm sorry I said it really. I never meant it to be a lousy anti-religious thing. I apologize if that will make you happy. I still don't know quite what I've done. I've tried to tell you what I did do but if you want me to apologize, if that will make you happy, then OK, I'm sorry. — John Lennon

Heel. The errant thought makes me shift in my chair. She peeks up at me and bites down on her full bottom lip. Fuck! How did I not notice how inviting that mouth is? "S-Sorry, I'm not used to this." I can tell, baby, but right now I don't give a damn because I can't take my eyes off your mouth. — E.L. James

Why do you laugh at me?
Why the insults, you don't know me,
Tell me you sorry; tell me you were wrong,
Don't you know what I can do?
I'm the supreme creation,
I choose to build, but I can destroy,
Say you sorry, and be gone,
Don't you know what I can do?
I can be a blessing, or a dreadful enemy,
Why the insults, you don't know me,
Tell me you sorry, be gone right now,
I am losing patience; don't you know what I can do?
I can shake your hand, or end your world right now,
Say you're sorry; tell me you were wrong,
Why the insults you don't know me — Quetzal

And yet here he was, looking at Jem Carstairs, a boy so fragile-looking that he appeared to be made out of glass, with the hardness of his expression slowly dissolving into tentative uncertainty. "You are not really dying," he said, the oddest tone to his voice, "are you?"
Jem nodded. "So they tell me."
"I am sorry," Will said.
"No", Jem said softly. He drew his jacket aside and took a knife from the belt at his waist. "Don't be ordinary like that. Don't say you're sorry. Say you'll train with me."
He held the knife to Will, hilt first. Charlotte held her breath, afraid to move. She felt as if she were watching something very important happen, though she could not have said what.
Will reached out and took the knife, his eyes never leaving Jem's face. His fingers brushed the other boy's as he took the weapon from him. It was the first time, Charlotte thought that she had ever seen him touch any other person willingly.
"I'll train with you," he said. — Cassandra Clare

I want a human sermon. I don't care what Melchisedek, or Zerubbabel, or Kerenhappuk did, ages ago; I want to know what I am to do, and I want somebody besides a theological bookworm to tell me; somebody who is sometimes tempted and tried, and is not too dignified to own it; somebody like me, who is always sinning and repenting; somebody who is glad and sorry, and cries and laughs, and eats and drinks, and wants to fight when they are trodden on, and don't! — Fanny Fern

I always wanted to be an actor. It's something I always secretly wanted. You know, I had the experience of being picked on as a child, and I would tell people, 'You're gonna be sorry when I'm famous!' And then I learned after they kicked the stuffing out me that you don't say that out loud. — DJ Qualls

Where's your home, then?" asked the Snork Maiden.
"Nowhere" said Snufkin a little sadly, "or everywhere. It depends on how you look at it."
"Haven't you got a mother?" asked Moomintroll, looking very sorry for him.
"I don't know," said Snufkin. "They tell me I was found in a basket."
"Like Moses," said Sniff.
"I like the story about Moses," said the Snork. "But I think his mother could have found a better way of saving him, don't you? The crocodiles might have eaten him up."
"They nearly ate us up," said Sniff. — Tove Jansson

Oh, sorry, am I being difficult?" Rich asked. "I'm not good with people. Sometimes I'm difficult. I wish people would just tell me. Anyway, the Taiyang Shen is critical. In fact, my idea won't work without it. But a Mars probe? Pfft. C'mon." "All right," Venkat said. "What's your idea?" Rich snatched a paper from the desk. "Here it is!" He handed it to Venkat with a childlike smile. Venkat took the summary and skimmed it. The more he read, the wider his eyes got. "Are you sure about this?" "Absolutely!" Rich beamed. "Have you told anyone else?" "Who would I tell?" "I don't know," Venkat said. "Friends?" "I don't have any of those." "Okay, keep it under your hat." "I don't wear a hat." "It's just an expression." "Really?" Rich said. "It's a stupid expression." "Rich, you're being difficult." "Ah. Thanks. — Andy Weir

Show, not tell, right? Action, not words. You don't want to hear how sorry I am or how things will be different this time. You want to see it with your own eyes. And until I can show you that, you won't tell me what I want to hear. — Ann Aguirre

Like, this whole Molly thing with the secret crushes that go nowhere. I'm over it." "Oh, you're over it?" My throat tightens. "Uh, I'm sorry boys don't like me." "That is such bullshit, Molly. You don't even talk to them." Here we go. Cassie's soapbox: the fact that I've had twenty-six crushes and exactly zero kisses. Apparently, it's because I need to woman up. If I like a guy, I'm supposed to tell him. Maybe in Cassie's world, you can do that and have it end in making out. But I'm not so sure it works that way for fat girls. — Becky Albertalli

Telepathically, I tell her I'm sorry. I tell her I just can't confide in her right now, tell her the three feet between us feels like three light-years to me and I don't know how to bridge it.
Telepathically, she tells me back that I'm breaking her broken heart. — Jandy Nelson

Poor innocent little lambie," God said, shaking his head. "Telion. I made you people in My Image. I swear, and drink, and have sex. I even burp and fart, but I damn sure don't snore. You seriously think I mind if people I made to reflect me act like I do? Not hardly. And there's another bone I have to pick with you lot. Know why I don't mess with Amrontil for the most part? I'll tell you. You sorry fuckers forgot how to talk to Me and you completely fucking rejected My gifts. You grovel and beg and plead like you're talking to My asshole Brother Gabriel. Makes Me want to barf. Come on, people, get a backbone! And fucking get laid, would you? Uptight repressed bastards. — Marie Brown

I wasn't posing," Joe said. "Totally posing," Elizabeth said. "Ox - " "Totally posing," I managed to say. "Fine," he said. "I can tell when I'm not wanted." No, I almost said. You're always wanted. I always want you. I never want to leave you. I never want to say good-bye. I'm sorry, Joe. I'm so sorry. I said, "For just a little while." "Yeah?" Joe said. "And then you'll want me? I feel so used." I nodded. "Hey," he said, and he was right by my side, pressed up against me, nose pressed against my neck. "I was just joking. You know I don't mean it like that." "Yeah," I said. He kissed my jaw. "I'll leave you to it, then. And later, I'll let you show me how much you want me." He smacked my ass and cackled as he left the room. WE — T.J. Klune

I had a psychiatrist tell me that shyness is a form of hostility. They tell everybody that, you know. That was a couple of years ago, so I have had a long time to think about it. I have persuaded myself that it isn't true. It's fear and laziness and realism. It's an embarrassed apology which says in effect: Hey - I'm sorry, I probably don't like life as much as you do. — Kurt Vonnegut

Oh, all southern women say they're sorry. You could do almost anything, bump into some one, don't spread the jam right, you're always sorry. I've had people tell me to stop saying it so much! — Andie MacDowell

I take a breath. Words seem suddenly trite and useless, so I step forward and grab Elias's hands, remembering Pop. Touch heals, Laia. I hold fast to him, trying to put everything I feel into that touch. I hope your Tribe is all right. I hope they survive the Martials. I'm truly, truly sorry. It's not enough. But it's all I have. After a moment, Elias lets out a breath and leans his forehead against mine. "Tell me what you told me that night in my room at Blackcliff," he murmurs. "What your Nan used to say to you." "As long as there is life" - I can hear Nan's warm voice as I say it - "there is hope." Elias lifts his head and looks down at me, the coolness in his eyes replaced by that raw, unquenchable fire. I forget to breathe. "Don't you forget it," he says. "Ever." I nod. The minutes pass, and neither of us pull away, instead finding solace in the coolness of the night and the quiet company of the stars. — Sabaa Tahir

I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how sorry I am. It doesn't mean I won't try, because you, Perry, you deserve a lifetime of servitude. Eons of groveling. Even then, I dont' think I can show enough, do enough to let you see. And that's OK. You have every right to hate me for this lifetime and many others. You have every right to never see me again. To spit on my grave. But tonight, now I"m not going to give up on you. I'm going to fix you, or die trying". — Karina Halle

I sighed. "Actually, Mom, we argue pretty regularly."
"What?" She gaped at me. "Well, stop it!"
"Oh, and I kneed him in the groin once."
There was a split second of silence before May barked a laugh. She covered her mouth and tried to stop it, but it kept coming out in awkward, squeaky sounds. Dad's lips were pressed together, but I could tell he was on the verge of losing it himself.
Mom was paler then snow.
"America, tell me you're joking. Tell me you didn't assault the prince."
I don't know why, but the word assault pushed us all on the edge; and May, Dad, and I bent over laughing as Mom stared at us.
"Sorry, Mom," I managed.
"Oh, good lord." She suddenly seemed very excited in meeting Marlee's parents, and I didn't stop her from going. — Kiera Cass

This was Heather Kozar, the newly elected Playmate of the Year, a very young girl with excellent manners who disappointingly insisted on calling him sir. "I'm sorry, sir, I haven't read any of your books," she apologized. "To tell you the truth, I don't read a lot of books, sir, because they make me feel tired and go to sleep." Yes, yes, he agreed, he often felt exactly the same way. "But there are some books, sir," she added, "like Vogue, which I feel I have to read to keep up with what's going on. — Salman Rushdie

You're going to leave me, aren't you? ... You've had enough of me, haven't you? You're probably so tired of all this crying and all these moods, and I've got to tell you, so am I. So am I. Sometimes it seems like my mind has a mind of its own, like I just get hysterical, like it's something I can't control at all. And I don't know what to do, and I feel so sorry for you because you don't know what to do either. And I'm sure you're going to leave me now. — Elizabeth Wurtzel

Better yet, why don't you tell us why you're here?"
"Last time I checked, I live here, too," Collin said.
"Not you, that ... that ... ," Mr. Taylor said, pointing at me with his fork.
"Pig!" Regan shouted at me.
Collin's head whipped around in her direction.
"I'm sorry?" I asked, caught off guard.
"Pig ... do you want some of the roasted pig?" she asked, holding a platter of meat. — Nicole Gulla

I don't want it to end, and so, as every therapist knows, the ego does not want an end to its "problems" because they are part of its identity. If no one will listen to my sad story, I can tell it to myself in my head, over and over, and feel sorry for myself, and so have an identity as someone who is being treated unfairly by life or other people, fate or God. It gives definition to my self-image, makes me into someone, and that is all that matters to the ego. — Eckhart Tolle

What the hell?" I muttered. Then I realized it was Jack Quinn's car. Jack was a Hound and Bea's boyfriend. The left blinker flashed on for just a second, and then Jack drove at speed again.
"Zayvion, I'm sorry to tell you I think I have a crush on another man."
"Who is this unfortunate and soon-to-be-dead fool?" he asked.
"Jack. That's his car. He must have been waiting for us, or maybe he followed us."
"Jack Quinn has been following us?" Shame said.
"And now he's taking us to Collins, I think."
"Or a trap," Shame said.
"He's a Hound, Shame."
"My statement stands."
"You still don't get it, do you?" I turned left, following the car. "Hounds are loyal. Jack and Bea told me they'd help me if they could. They're not going to turn against me while I'm in trouble."
"What happens when you're not in trouble?" Shame asked.
"Don't know. It's never happened. — Devon Monk

My daddy always told me to just do the best you knew how and tell the truth. He said there was nothin to set a man's mind at ease like wakin up in the morning and not havin to decide who you were. And if you done somethin wrong just stand up and say you done it and say you're sorry and get on with it. Don't haul stuff around with you. — Cormac McCarthy

Oh, sorry," he said, bringing his mind back to their conversation. "This time we have to maintain a bluff to win. Not easy. Complicated. I'll explain it all to you one day." She pretended exasperation. "Not fair, Andrew. Don't treat me like a second-class citizen. You've always confided in me. I've confided in you. You're interested in what I do every day. Well, I'm just as interested in what you do. We're a team, Andrew. We share. So don't suddenly go chauvinist and relegate me to the kitchen. Tell me the problems you're dealing with. I want to share them with you." "I don't mean to withhold anything from — Crossroad Press

I was very offended as this damages my reputation as a Muslim and a headscarf-wearer, and my father to whom religion is most important.This I cannot apologize for. I'm sorry but it is unacceptable to watch my mother crying because of this. I think everyone who has a family will understand the pain we are going through now.If you don't like me, you can just tell me to my face. Don't come near my parents. — Shila Amzah

He told me I balance his life. This is worrisome. What I don't tell him is that he's like four people in one and I'm in no position to balance that type of chaos. What I don't tell him is that he cuts me deeply by punishing me with his lack of visits for asking him the tough questions as a real friend might. Or how I've never been so angry in all my life when I'd realise that's what he'd done. What I don't say is, "How dare you!" And what he doesn't say, I notice, is that he's sorry. — Logan Keys

Let me tell you something, my wife died for Tuesdays ago. Cancer of the colon. We were married forty-one years. Now you stop feeling sorry for yourself and lose some of that pork of yours. Pretty girl like you - you don't want to do this yourself. — Wally Lamb

I don't even want to think about all those dishes," Donny said. "Hey, now that I believe in demons and magic spells, who's going to tell me about little dish elves that come and clean your kitchen while you nap?"
"There is a class of fairy called Nibs that will do it. But they come with their own set of issues. It's never worth the hassle of summoning them," Varnie answered.
"I was totally kidding, but..." Donny eyed him suspiciously. "Wait, are you punking me? There really is no such thing as Nibs, is there?"
Varnie smiled noncommitally.
"Ame, is there sucha thing as Nibs?"
Amelia bit her lip to keep from laughing. "I've never heard of them, but that doesn't mean they don't exist."
"Amnesia boy?"
I held up my hand. "Yeah, sorry. Amnesia."
"You guys suck." She pouted. — Gwen Hayes

I'm sorry. I don't know how many times to tell you this for you to know it," I continued. "Francesca ... the night you stayed with me was the best night of my life. I've never felt more alive, more loved, happier, than when I hold you in my arms. Seeing your face makes my heart beat faster, in a good way, and I feel this calmness come over me. I don't know why, but it's always been this way with you. I understand if you can't forgive me, and I know you could do better, but I'm going to try my damnedest to make it up to you when I get out of here. I don't care if it takes a year, or ten, or even twenty. I will make you see how much I care. — Felicia Tatum

I've been stealing your soaps," I
tell him.
He raises his eyebrows at me.
"Sorry." I feel myself blush.
"Don't feel bad," he says, serious
so suddenly. "You can have anything of
mine you want. You can have all of it. — Tahereh Mafi

Don't say 'sorry' like that neither, like a dog that get tell off for messin' on the kitchen floor. Hold your head up. Look the world in the eye. You hear me? — Neil Gaiman

What did you tell them?"
"I don't recall. I think I mentioned your discipline and ability to follow orders. I may have said something about you being a team player."
Derek emitted a strangled cough.
"Why?" I demanded.
"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Curran resumed hammering.
"I'm sorry," I said into the phone, sticking me finger into my other ear so I could hear. "His Majesty tends to exaggerate things. I'm not a team player. I'm undisciplined and I have a problem with authority. Also, the Beast Lord can't hammer for shit."
On the roof Derek was laughing his head off. — Ilona Andrews

DESPERATELY SEEKING EPIC You're my father. I don't know much about you. I know your name is Paul James, you're a thrill seeker, and once upon a time you did stunts and people called you 'Epic.' I've been told you don't know about me. That it's complicated. But for me it's simple. Here's the thing: I'm twelve years old . . . and I'm dying. And as much as this could crush my mother, I have to meet you before I go. In time, I'm sure she'll understand. She's still in love with you. So, Epic, if you read this, please come back. You don't have to be my dad. You don't even have to tell me you love me or you're sorry. Just come see me. — B.N. Toler

Hermes rolled his eyes. "Surely you've seen network TV lately. It's clear they don't know whether they're coming or going. That's because Janus is in charge of programming. He loves ordering new shows and cancelling them after two episodes. God of beginnings and endings, after all. Anyway, I was bringing him some magic doormats, and I was double-parked-"
"You have to worry about double-parking?"
"Will you let me tell the story?"
"Sorry. — Rick Riordan

Firestar, what's wrong?" Firestar shook his head to clear it of apprehension. It was a relief to go right back to the beginning, and tell Cinderpelt about the dream that had come to him as he lay beside the Moonstone. Cinderpelt sat beside him and listened in silence, her steady gaze never leaving his face. "Bluestar told me, 'Four will become two. Lion and tiger will meet in battle, and blood will rule the forest,'" Firestar finished. "And then blood oozed out of the hill of bones and started to fill the hollow. Blood everywhere . . . Cinderpelt, what does it all mean?" "I don't know," Cinderpelt confessed. "StarClan has not shown me any of this. Just as they have the power to show me what will happen, so they can choose not to share with me. I'm sorry, Firestar - but I'll keep thinking about it, and maybe something will happen to make it clearer soon." She pushed her nose against Firestar's fur to comfort him, but though Firestar was grateful for her — Erin Hunter

If you'd rather skip lunch, that's fine with me. I've got some things to take care of anyway before I can leave the store to Robin for the weekend."
"I don't want to skip lunch," he bit out. "I'm starving."
Her temper got the better of her. "Fine, but if you plan on snapping at me the whole time then I'd just as soon you eat alone."
His gaze darkened. "I'm not snapping."
She poked him in the chest. "Yes, you are."
Leo started to speak, then paused and let out a huge breath. "Sorry. Damn, I'm just having one of those days."
Amanda smiled and patted his cheek. "You can tell me all about it over a bowl of fettuccine. — Anne Rainey

Tell me you're sorry.
Tell me you don't hate me enough to hurt me this way. — Chelsea Pitcher

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

Shut up. For the rest of this conversation, you don't say anything. When I tell you what you did wrong, you don't say you're sorry, because I already know you're sorry. And when you drive outta here alive, you don't thank me for being alive. And you don't even say goodbye to me. — Neal Stephenson

I'm sorry.'
Congratulations.'
Can you tell me why you're so upset?'
The thing is, Tobey should get this. I mean, he's gotten everything else about me. And I don't want to explain it all. So much of it has to do with jealousy, and I know it's stupid to be mad at him because he had a life before me. But I am anyway. — Susane Colasanti

Pray don't hold back," Robert said politely. "You can tell me what you really think of my valet." Stewart broke in to a reluctant grin."Sorry fer bein' so forward, sir, but that valet o' yers is nothin' but a Frenchified piece o' lace. — Karen Hawkins

First of all, you don't want me to get too hungry. Ever. I'm an ever worse bastard than normal and having starved for centuries, I'm not about to deprive myself again when I don't have to. Second, let me tell you something about your 'friends.' Deimos held me down while I was branded and then took me to the human realm where I was left with nothing. No clothes, no money. Not a damn thing to call my own. Hence the aforementioned starvation. A hundred years later, M'Ordant dumped my inside a Spartan prison camp and told the commander I was a traitor to their people. You don't really want to know what the Spartans did to people they thought betrayed them. D'Alerian had me put inside a Turkish prison in the fifteenth century where I was impaled after being tortured for three weeks. So you'll have to excuse me if I have a hard time feeling too sorry for them right now. At least no one's shoving a sharp spike up their asses. (Jericho) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

And I'm sorry," he went on, licking his lips, still gazing at me seductively, "if I didn't tell you about me and Rebecca. I wasn't trying to hurt you - I wasn't trying to do anything. All I think about is you, Perry. From the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep, and even in my dreams. I don't think about my past anymore. I only think about my future. And you're my fucking future. — Karina Halle

I'm autistic and most of my children are autistic as well. Please don't tell me how sorry you are for me. I don't need pity. I'm just a mother who has children. Our unique identities and neurology make us who we are. We are perfectly fine just like this, thanks — Tina J. Richardson

Watch it." Josh bites into a pink apple and talks through a full mouth. "He has parts down there you don't have."
"Ooo, parts," I say. "Intriguing. Tell me more."
Josh smiles sadly. "Sorry. Privileged information. Only people with parts can know about said parts. — Stephanie Perkins

Pops: How about you finish this sentence for me, Jason? When a girl says no she means ...
Justin, looking desperately at me: No?
Nana: Are you sure?
Justin, shifting uncomfortably: I'm sure. No means no.
Nana: Well look at you. You got one right. Now here's another, even tougher sentence for you to finish. Premarital sex is ...
Me: Nana! I'm so sorry Justin.
Nana: Unlike Pops, I'm not moving on. Justin?
Pops: His name is Jason.
Justin:Uh ... uh ...
Pops: While you think about that, why don't you tell me how you feel about drinking and driving?
Justin: I'm totally against it, I swear!
Nana: Methinks he protests too much. — Gena Showalter

Anna: Ash, I don't have anything planned with my Mother ... She's dead.
Ashley: What?
Anna: She died when I was seven. She drowned. It's just my Dad and me. I didn't tell you before because I just wanted a fresh start here, because before I moved, everybody knew about it and ... I'm sorry.
Ashley: ... You're like a Disney Princess! — Jessi Kirby

I don't expect you to take me back, but I needed to come here and tell you how sorry I am. I needed to tell you how much I love you, Gavin. How much I need you in my life. — Gail McHugh

My Zoe.
"You did right," I tell her. "You're better than I could ever be, you know that? 'Cause you do the right thing."
"You're so fucking beautiful. You're an angel. And you know - " I make a grasping, chesty sound. "You know fucking everything and ... everything, about me. And you still love me, don't you?"
She nods. Then she flings herself into my lap.
"I'm sorry," she chokes.
"You want to save me. Bad as I want to save you. I know about that."
- Will — Kristin Halbrook

You're not my matchmaker any longer. But we're still friends, and in the interest of our friendship we need to discuss page thirteen."
"Page thirteen ?"
"You've accused me of being arrogant. I've always thought of myself as confident, but I'm here to tell you, no more. After studying these pictures ... Honey, if this is what you're looking for in a man, I don't think any of us are going to measure up."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Who knew flexible silicone came in so many colors?"
Her sex toy catalog. He'd taken it months ago. She'd hoped he forgotten it by now.
" Most of these products are hypoallergenic. That's good, I guess. Some with batteries, some without. I suppose that's a matter of preference. There's a harness on this one. That's pretty kinky. And ... Son of a bitch ! It says this one is dishwater safe. I'm sorry but there's just something unappetizing about that. — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

So when you wake up every day, tell the Lord, "Jesus, I believe you are my Savior and Lord. I accept your invitation. I don't want anything to keep me away from you today." And every evening before you go to sleep, tell him, "Lord, I'm sorry for the ways I failed you. Give me your grace to do better tomorrow." It's that simple. "Jesus, I accept your invitation. I want to be with you both now and forever. — Anonymous

And don't tell me you're sorry, because that would make you a very pitiful assassin."
"I'm not an assassin!" My head snapped up and I saw that he was kneeling right beside me.
"Oh. I'm sorry. That would make you a very pitiful saboteur who carries a knife for nonviolent purposes." His crimson cat eyes were laughing at me. — Rosamund Hodge

Refusing! And she is after me with a broom, trying to sweep my rotten carcass into the open. Why, shades of Gregor Samsa! Hello Alex, goodbye Franz! "You better tell me you're sorry, you, or else! And I don't mean maybe either!" I am five, maybe six, and she is or-elsing me and not-meaning-maybe as though the firing squad is already outside, lining the street with newspaper preparatory to my execution. — Philip Roth

Sometimes you go a long time having fooled yourself into thinking that you're as grown-up as you'll ever be, or that you're more mature than the rest of the world thinks you are, and you live in this state of constant self-assurance, and for a while nothing can upset you from this pedestal you've built for yourself, because you imagine yourself to be so capable. And then somebody does something that takes a golf club to your ego, and suddenly you're nine years old again, pieced together from humiliation and gawky youthfulness and childlike ideas like, Somebody please tell me what to do, nobody taught me how to handle this, God, just look at all the things I still don't understand, and you can't muster up the presence of mind to do anything but stand there, stare, silent, sorry. — Riley Redgate

How come someone always saves the people who try to kill themselves and then makes them tell everyone how sorry they are for ruining their evening? I keep feeling like everyone wants me to apologize for something. but I'm not going to. I don't have anything to apologize for. They're the ones who screwed everything up. Not me.
I didn't ask to be saved. — Michael Thomas Ford

You. Today. I fucked up. I'm sorry, Lena, I just ... I'm sorry. Shit just came out my mouth and I knew it wasn't right." He winced. "I'm sorry."
"Honestly, Jimmy, the words just aren't cutting it for me right now."
"What do I do then? Tell me. I don't know how to do this stuff," he said. "React right. — Kylie Scott

It's interesting that Melburnians don't tell jokes about Sydney. They tell jokes about their beloved footy. To wit: A man arriving for the Grand Final in Melbourne is surprised to find the seat beside his empty. Tickets for the Grand Final are sold out weeks in advance and empty seats unknown. So he says to the man on the other side of the seat: 'Excuse me, do you know why there is no one in this seat?' 'It was my wife's,' answers the second man, a touch wistfully, 'but I'm afraid she died.' 'Oh, that's terrible. I'm so sorry.' 'Yes, she never missed a match.' 'But couldn't you have given the ticket to a friend or relative?' 'Oh no. They're all at the funeral. — Bill Bryson