Say Sorry To Her Quotes & Sayings

Good manners forced her to say, somewhat grudgingly, "Your boots are very nice."
He grinned and regarded his footwear, which, though old, appeared very well-made. "Yes, they are, aren't they?"
"If a bit scuffed," she added.
"I shall polish them tomorrow," he promised, his somewhat superior look telling her that he refused to rise to her bait.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "That was uncalled for. Compliments should be freely given, without restrictions or qualifications. — Julia Quinn

Right, then, mate, terribly sorry for my unspeakable rudeness, and I do beg your pardon. I can only say that it was caused by my natural affront to the notion of her as my sister. Since I'll be shagging her tonight, you can imagine how I'd be distressed at the thought of rogering my sibling"
"You shmuck! The only thing you'll be shagging tonight is yourself!"
"You wanted sincerity, well, luv, I was sincere. — Jeaniene Frost

All I know is that I like how I feel when I'm with you. I love how protective you are and that you aren't afraid to say you're sorry. I like how you touch me and kiss me. I like how you hold me, but more than anything, I like the possibilities that are before us."
"We're in the middle of a war," he warned.
She shrugged and ran her hands up his chest and over his shoulders to clasp around his neck. "Every couple has their own issues to get through. — Donna Grant

No mother wants to hear her son say he's gay. Those two words rip the picture of a daughter-in-law and grandchildren into pieces. I felt sorry for my mom and wanted her to know everything was going to be all right. But then she said, 'I don't really care, Johnny, as long as I know that you are going to be happy.' — Johnny Weir

Most people will say that this story which I told "It's not a happy"... doesn't exist, but sorry it exist. I made in normal age, like 10 or 14 years old to can be saw the drama, if it was baybe, the baybe will cry, won't it?
The age which I put the girl was the perfect, teenager in the same time, mother which is lost which will mean she has died... her father with a strange past still a mystery. — Deyth Banger

Oh shit, oh shit, stupid shower present!"
Now she did pull her hair as she made the dash to her office.
Roarke sat in her visitor's chair, comfortably involved with his PPC. He glanced up, let loose a regretful sigh. "You changed. And I didn't have any time to ogle you in uniform."
"I have to go shopping!"
Staring at her, Roarke pressed his fingertips to his temple. "I'm sorry, I believe I must have had a small stroke. What did you say?"
"This isn't funny." She bent down, gripped him by the lapels. "I forgot to get a thing for the thing, and I don't even know what the thing is supposed to be. Now I have to go out and hunt something down. Except - " Her eyes went from slightly mad to speculative. "We have all kinds of things around the house. Couldn't I just wrap something up and - "
"No."
"Crap! — J.D. Robb

Friends say: "He's mean." But she knows many ways in which he has been good to her. Friends say: "He treats you that way because he can get away with it. I would never let someone treat me that way." But she knows that the times when she puts her foot down the most firmly, he responds by becoming his angriest and most intimidating. When she stands up to him, he makes her pay for it - sooner or later. Friends say: "Leave him." But she knows it won't be that easy. He will promise to change. He'll get friends and relatives to feel sorry for him and pressure her to give him another chance. He'll get severely depressed, causing her to worry whether he'll be all right. — Lundy Bancroft

He glances at the sorry trio of copy editors before him: Dave Belling, a simpleton far too cheerful to compose a decent headline; Ed Rance, who wears a white ponytail
what more need one say?; and Ruby Zaga, who is sure that the entire staff is plotting against her, and is correct. What is the value in remonstrating with such a feckless triumvirate? — Tom Rachman

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

What else did he say?"
"Just that. He's going to The Eye, and he's sorry." She screwed up her face. "Oh, and some weird thing about telling you that he still feels the same way about that tent, and he promises to say it to you in person next time he sees you."
I gave a bark of laughter that was more of a sob, "That asshat," I blubbered.
Elodie nodded in sympathy. "Such an asshat."
When I'd left Thorne Abbey, I'd held Archer's sword and had a sense that somehow things would turn out all right. Please, I thought. The rest of my magic is back, so let me have that power, too.
But there was no reply except the whistling of the wind. — Rachel Hawkins

She let him finish, then pinched his nose between her thumb and forefinger. She twisted until she got a cry of pain from him.
"Don't touch. I don't like to be touched."
"I see that."
"Say you're sorry or I'll take it off."
"Sorry. Sorry!"
She released him. He rubbed his nose and pouted. She couldn't help but smile. So very cute. And so very charming. Of course she still wouldn't trust him with her dead horse. — G.A. Aiken

I wanted to say sorry, I wanted to tell her I could not forget the roundup, the camp, Michel's death, and the direct train to Auschwitz that had taken her parents away forever. Sorry for what? he had retaliated, why should I, an American, feel sorry, hadn't my fellow countrymen freed France in June 1944? I had nothing to be sorry for, he laughed.
I had looked at him straight in the eyes.
Sorry for not knowing. Sorry for being forty-five years old and not knowing. — Tatiana De Rosnay

When he has disappeared, Mother clears her throat. I don't turn around and look at her in the rocking chair. I don't want her to see the disappointment in my face that he's gone.
"Go ahead, Mother," I finally mutter. "Say what you want to say."
"Don't you let him cheapen you."
I look back at her, eye her suspiciously, even though she is so frail under the wool blanket. Sorry is the fool who ever underestimates my mother.
"If Stuart doesn't know how intelligent and kind I raised you to be, he can march straight on back to State Street." She narrows her eyes at the winter land. "Frankly, I don't care much for Stuart. He doesn't know how lucky he was to have you. — Kathyrn Stockett

Now that we've settled that," Rhys drawled from behind me, "can we please eat? I'm famished." Amren opened her mouth with a wry smile, but he added, "Do not say what you were going to say, Amren." Rhys gave Cassian a sharp look. Both of them were still bruised - but healing fast. "Unless you want to have it out on the roof."

Amren clicked her tongue and instead jerked her chin at me. "I heard you grew fangs in the forest and killed some Hybern beasts. Good for you, girl."

"She saved his sorry ass is more like it," Mor said, filling her glass of wine. "Poor little Rhys got himself in a bind."

I held out my own glass for Mor to fill. "He does need unusual amounts of coddling."

Azriel choked on his wine, and I met his gaze - warm for once. Soft, even. I felt Rhys tense beside me and quickly looked away from the spymaster — Sarah J. Maas

Wow," he muttered, his voice choked with tears. "Here we are, the last night and all, and I can't think of anything to say."
I pressed my palm to his cheek, feeling the moisture beneath my fingers, and smiled at him. "How about 'goodbye'?"
"Nah." Puck shook his head. "I make a point of never saying goodbye, princess. Makes it sound like you're never coming back."
"Puck - "
He bent down and kissed me softly on the lips. Ash stiffened, arms tightening around me, but Puck slid out of reach before either of us could react. "Take care of her, ice-boy," he said, smiling as he backed up several paces. "I guess I won't be seeing you, either, will I? It was ... fun, while it lasted."
"I'm sorry we didn't get to kill each other," Ash said quietly.
Puck chuckled and bent to retrieve his fallen dagger. "My one and only regret. Too bad, that would have been an epic fight." Straightening, he gave us that old, stupid grin, raising a hand in farewell. "See you around, lovebirds. — Julie Kagawa

But no, I'm sorry. I can't end there. I haven't yet said everything I want to say. A little girl is at school, out in the playground with her friends, and she sees a flower and says to her friends, just thinking out loud, wondering gently to herself: Do you think flowers have feelings? And for the rest of the day her friends tease her relentlessly, with every new opportunity that arises. Do flowers have feelings, that's so stupid. Right, flowers have feelings. All day and for the rest of the week: stupid flowers have stupid feelings and that little girl feels she is never going to say anything like that ever again. She has already learned that when you open your heart or express genuine, innocent curiosity or wonder about the world, your friends will pounce on the opportunity and use it to hurt you as viciously as possible and there is nothing anyone can do to protect her. It's simple stories like that that really break my heart. — Jacob Wren

I wanted to say I'm sorry. It doesn't make it right, it just ... makes it what it is.
The bell rings then, and I turn around in my seat, thinking I agree with her, that it is just what it is. And not just the situation with Sebastian. But still wish I knew how I could make it right. How I could make everything right. — Lauren Barnholdt

You still need to work on a lot of things," Diane did not say. "I'm sorry your father isn't here," she also did not say. "But I am trying so, so hard. I am, Josh. I am, I am, I am," she did not say. As far as things go, her self-control was pretty good. — Joseph Fink

People aren't locked doors. You can get through to them if you want.
But no one did. No one reached out a hand to Tulip. Nobody tried to touch her. I hear them whispering and they sicken me. 'Bus seats!' grumbles Mrs Bodell. 'Locker doors!' complain the teachers. 'Chicken sheds!' say the farmers. 'Greenhouses! Dustbins!' moan the neighbours. And Mum says, 'A lovely old hotel!'
But what about Tulip?
I shall feel sorry for Tulip all my life.
And guilty, too.
Guilty. — Anne Fine

Try an' try," he said, "but when it comes day's end, I can't wash the pig off me. And your mother never complains. Not once, in all these years, has she ever said that I smell strong. I said once to her that I was sorry."
"What did Mama say?"
"She said I smelled of honest work, and that there was no sorry to be said or heard. — Robert Newton Peck

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

But as they walked home together through the leaf-plastered streets, under that eerie refulgence, her father seemed to have divined her plans. This was in his manner, not his words: they were halfway home before he spoke. "Amanda," he said. He paused. "I want you to realize the consequences before you do something youll be sorry for." He did not look at her, and she too kept her eyes to the front. "You know that when I say a thing I mean it - I mean it to the hilt. So tell your young man this, Amanda. Tell him that the day you marry without my consent I'll cut you off without a dime. Without so much as one thin dime, Amanda. I'll cut you off, disown you, and what is more I'll never regret it. I'll never so much as think your name again." Up to now he had spoken slowly, pausing between phrases. But now the words came fast, like fencing thrusts. "Tell your young man that, Amanda, and see what he says." Major — Shelby Foote

He looks almost as bad as I feel. Nat calls out, "So I'm guessing by your silence that I've won this round."

I shake my head and speak into the cell, "Sorry, I gotta go. Max is here."

She purrs into the phone. "Ah, I get ya." Then sings, "Let me lick you up and down 'til you say stop."

I fight my hysterical laugh and mumble, "Yeah, like I said, I gotta go."

But she ignores me, singing louder, "Let me play with your body, baby, make you real hot."

I hang up and swallow hard. "Hi."

Max opens his mouth to speak, but Nat is not to be ignored. She shouts through the wall, "Let me do all the things you want me to do." I cover my mouth with a hand, flushing as she finishes her solo. "'Cause tonight, baby, I wanna get freaky with you." A moment later, she yells a huffy, "You shut up, ASSer! — Belle Aurora

I love you...and I'm sorry it took losing you to figure that out."
His anger deflated. "Did you say you love me?"
She nodded and tears dripped from her eyes.

He put a hand to his chest. "Are you sure, because my fucking heart can't take this. — Dana Mason

She was beautiful in combat. I know that's a crazy thing to say, especially after we'd just climbed a sewage waterfall, but her gray eyes sparkled when she was fighting for her life. Her face shone like a goddess's, and believe me, I've seen goddesses. The way her Camp Half-Blood beads rested against her throat - Okay, sorry. Got a little distracted. — Rick Riordan

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

Try not to take it personally if the mother criticizes you or tells you to stop doing something that you expected to be helpful. Just say, "Sorry," and stop doing it. Don't try to explain why you did it or express frustration with her. She is really saying that labor is so difficult right now that nothing helps. You are the safest person for her to lash out at. Later, she will probably apologize. — Penny Simkin

I felt sorry for her, baby, guilty and responsible. That's all it was. Once she started talking about you, I could have thrown her off the deck with no remorse. I know there are no words that can take away what you saw, just please say you understand. Liz is nothing to me, Evan, but you...you're everything. — Lilly Black

Here is how to turn down an extramural date so you won't be asked again. Say something like I'm terribly sorry I can't come out to see 8 1/2 revived on a wall-size Cambridge Celluloid Festival viewer on Friday, Kimberly, or Daphne, but you see if I jump rope for two hours then jog backwards through Newton till I puke They'll let me watch match-cartridges and then my mother will read aloud to me from the O.E.D. until 2200 lights-out, and c.; so you can be sure that henceforth Daphne/Kimberly/Jennifer will take her adolescent-mating-dance-type-ritual-socialization business somewhere else. — David Foster Wallace

She spent the whole time in a fog. Lying in her bed, deliberately not calling him. Why should she call him? What was she supposed to say - sorry? Georgie wasn't sorry. She wasn't sorry that she knew what she wanted to do with her life. She wasn't sorry that she was making it happen. — Rainbow Rowell

Sorry! I didn't mean to say that," I mumble into the pillow next to her head.

"Oh."

"No! I mean, I meant what I said. I just didn't mean to tell you. — Victoria Denault

But let's not be casual about this body, okay?" She nuzzled him back. "It may be your soul that I love, but I'm pretty keen on its vessel, too."
Her voice had dropped lower as she spoke, and his response was low and husky in kind. "I can't say I'm sorry to hear that," he said, and brushed his face past hers to kiss a place beneath her ear, sending instant, electric frissons coursing through her body. — Laini Taylor

I've given up on Lulu before. In Utrecht. In Mexico. But that felt like surrendering. Like it was me I was really giving up on. This feels different, somehow. Like maybe Lulu brought me to this place, and for the first time in a long time, I'm on the cusp of something real. Maybe this is the point of it all. Maybe this is where the road is meant to end. I think of the postcards I left in her suitcase. I'd written sorry on one of them. Only now do I understand what I really should've written was thank you.
"Thank you," I say quietly to the empty house. I know she'll never hear it, but somehow that seems besides the point. — Gayle Forman

Do you think she knows how much I love her?"
"You gave her flowers and said you were sorry."
"I did."
"You kissed her."
I could only nod.
"You painted her pictures and hugged her when she cried."
"Yeah," I whispered.
"You laughed with her too."
I nodded again.
"Those are all the ways to say I love you. — Amy Harmon

What did you tell the queen?"
"I told Inisha about you."
"What, exactly?"
He hesitated. "I'm afraid to say."
"I want you to."
"You might leave."
"I won't."
He stayed silent.
She said, "I give you my word."
"I told her that I belong to you, and no other. I said that I was sorry. — Marie Rutkoski

I...I'm sorry," Kylie mumbled.
"Don't you even try to talk your way out of me being pissed!" Burnett growled. "Not a word!"
"I just..."
"That's two words and I said not one!" he snapped, and he swiped his hand through the air for emphasis.
Kylie bit down on her lip, and wouldn't you know it that's when the tears started flowing. Big, fat, and fast tears. She sniffled and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. Her breath caught in her chest. But damn it. Why couldn't this have happened when she was alone?
"Those tears do not affect me, young lady!" He pointed a finger at her. While she couldn't hear his heart beat to the rhythm of a lie, she heard it in his voice.

***

"I just..."
"Did I say you could talk?" he asked. He did three more pacing laps, as if working off steam, before he looked at her again. "Where were you going, Kylie?"
When she just looked at him, he bit out, "Answer me."
"You said I couldn't talk. — C.C. Hunter

He muttered something foul and then climbed the stairs, rapping twice on Timmie's door.
"Right, then, mate, terribly sorry for my unspeakable rudeness, and I do beg your pardon,"
he said with admirable humbleness when Timmie cracked it open. Only I could pick up the
slight edge to his voice as he went on. "I can only say that it was caused by my natural
affront to the notion of her as my sister. Since I'll be shagging her tonight, you can
imagine how I'd be distressed at the thought of rogering my sibling."
"You schmuck!" I burst as Timmie's jaw dropped. "The only thing you'll be shagging
tonight is yourself!"
"You wanted sincerity," he countered. "Well, luv, I was sincere. — Jeaniene Frost

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

I'm busy, you're busy, everybody's busy. I've got a lot I want to say to you, though." "All right," Pia told her. "Hit me with it." "First, I'm so sorry about what my uncle Urien did to you guys. I hate him, he killed my family, and we're going to cut off his head, and then I have to be Queen, but before that happens let's do lunch, okay? — Thea Harrison

Everyone kept touching, touching, touching. 'Hello, Jes.' They'd say. 'Good to have you back.' Touch. Touch. Touch."
"I'm sorry. You should have asked them not to touch you."
"Hennea said, 'Stop touching the man, you fools. It hurts him.' and they stopped touching me." He pulled off a boot and looked up with a pleased expression.
"Hennea yelled at them?" Seraph asked surprised.
He shook his head. "No, she just said it very firmly. But she can touch me. I told her so."
"In front of everyone?" asked Rinnie, horrified.
Seraph was hard put not to laugh. — Patricia Briggs

If you ever say her name again, I will end you."

My heart takes up permanent residency in my throat. I bet he can see it pulsing in my neck. Once I manage to find a sliver of space to speak past it, I whisper, "Sorry, I'm afraid there's a queue. — Jewel E. Ann

He pulled away to say he's sorry, and she shook her head no, because even though she really want him to be sorry, she wanted to kiss him more. — Rainbow Rowell

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

Before I went to the Mess I made the excuse I wanted to get something out of my aeroplane, and climbed into the cockpit; I did this, however, to be able to say good-bye to the old dear; and I really felt dreadfully sorry to part with her. I get very attached to aeroplanes, and I am one of those people who think that they aren't so inanimate as we are told they are. — Charles Rumney Samson

Curiosity broke her earlier resolve. "Have you ever been tested?"
"No." He stood behind Sara, holding the camera in front so she could see. "Zoom here," he said, flicking the toggle.
"You could probably-"
"This is macro."
"Will-"
"Super macro." He kept talking over her until she gave up. "Here's where you adjust for color. This is light. Anti-shake. Red-eye." He clicked through the features like a photography instructor.
Sara Finally relented. "Why don't I point and you shoot?"
"All right." His back was stiff, and she could tell that he was irritated.
"I'm sorry I-"
"Please don't apologize."
Sara held his gaze for a few moments longer, wishing she could fix this. There was nothing to say if he wouldn't even let her apologize. — Karin Slaughter

She [Anita] turns back to Raffe, her face melting into a radiant smile. She puts her hand on his arm as he's about to take off his pants.
And that's all the excuse I need.
I grab the sudsy shirt out of the gray water and throw it at her.
It makes a plop noise when it lands on her face, wrapping around her hair. Her perfect hair clumps into a stringy mass, and her mascara smears as the cloth slides wetly down her blouse. She emits a high-pitched squeal that turns every head within earshot.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I say in a sugary voice. "Did you not like that? I thought that's what you wanted. I mean, why else would you be putting your paws on my man? — Susan Ee

Her face crumpled and he felt her pain as if it was his own. He wanted to take it back, but just like that memory, it was always going to be there.
She worked to get control over her features, then said, "I'm sorry I didn't defend you. I'm sorry I didn't tell them you were my guest."
Jem hadn't thought he cared anymore, not really, but her words were tugging loose the hard, painful knot in his chest. "It's okay."
She shook her head. "It's not. It wasn't."
He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. He didn't know what else to say and all he wanted was to touch her skin, let her know that he wasn't that boy anymore and that she wasn't that girl. — Mary Jane Hathaway

Miss Taylor says kids that are colored can't go to my school cause they're not smart enough." I come round the counter then. Lift her chin up and smooth back her funny-looking hair. "You think I'm dumb?" "No," she whispers hard, like she means it so much. She look sorry she said it. "What that tell you about Miss Taylor, then?" She blink, like she listening good. "Means Miss Taylor ain't right all the time," I say. She hug me around my neck, say, "You're righter than Miss Taylor." I tear up then. My cup is spilling over. Those is new words to me. — Kathyrn Stockett

In the early 1950s, Fanny Rosenow, a breast cancer survivor and cancer advocate, called the New York Times to post an advertisement for a support group for women with breast cancer. Rosenow was put through, puzzlingly, to the society editor of the newspaper. When she asked about placing her announcement, a long pause followed. "I'm sorry, Ms. Rosenow, but the Times cannot publish the word breast or the word cancer in its pages. "Perhaps," the editor continued, "you could say there will be a meeting about diseases of the chest wall." Rosenow — Siddhartha Mukherjee

Like, if I suggested to a school friend we do something, she could say, 'Sorry, I don't have any money'. Which is something I could never say if the situation was reversed. If I said "I don't have any money', it would really mean "I don't have any money'. It's sad. Like, if a pretty girl says "I look
terrible today, I don't want to go out,' that's OK, but if an ugly girl says the same thing people laugh at her. That's what the world was like for
me. — Haruki Murakami

Listen, I'm sorry to bother you when you're obviously busy with, uh, important things, " B. J. Says. He sounds sarcastic. "But you remember a few months ago, when we scored that pot for Brian Turner?"
"Sort of, " I say, wondering if it would be going too far to call B. J. "pookie" or "schmooper. " I want Courtney to be jealous, but I also don't want her thinking I'm a pussy. Which is really fucked up, since, you know, I'm the one that broke up with her. — Lauren Barnholdt

After leaving Barnes & Noble, I went to a drive-through fast food restaurant to get a Diet Dr Pepper. Right as I pulled up to the window, my cell phone rang. I wasn't quite sure, but I thought it might be Charlie's school calling, so I answered it. It wasn't the school - it was someone calling to confirm an appointment. I got off the phone as quickly as I could. In the short time it took me to say, "Yes, I'll be at my appointment," the woman in the window and I had finished our soda-for-money transaction. I apologized to her the second I got off of the phone. I said, "I'm so sorry. The phone rang right when I was pulling up and I thought it was my son's school." I must have surprised her because she got huge tears in her eyes and said, "Thank you. Thank you so much. You have no idea how humiliating it is sometimes. They don't even see us." I — Brene Brown

I was used to waiting for her. As a child I'd waited for hel all the time, but it never annoyed me because I didn't have the one thing that unfailingly stole hours from her life. 'Sorry I'm late' she used to say. 'It was my hair again. And she spoke of it as if it was an affliction like asthma or a limp or a problem heart, one that slowed her down — Sarah Winman

I'll say I'm sorry for the rest of my life if you'll forgive me," he whispered in her ear.
"I want to hate you."
He pressed his forehead to hers. "You want to, but you don't?"
"I love you, you ass. — Bernadette Marie

I believe we were discussing your dissatisfaction with life as the most popular man in London.'
Her voice rose on the last four words, and Colin realized he'd been scolded. Soundly.
Which he found extraordinarily irritating. 'I don't know why I thought you'd understand,' he bit off, hating the childish tinge in his voice but completely unable to edit it out.
'I'm sorry,' she said, 'but it's a little difficult for me to sit here and listen to you complain that your life is nothing.'
'I didn't say that.'
'You most certainly did!'
'I said I *have* nothing,' he corrected, trying not to wince as he realized how stupid that sounded.
'You have more than anyone I know,' she said, jabbing him in the shoulder. 'But if you don't realize that, then maybe you are correct - your life is nothing. — Julia Quinn

Yeah. I guess we were both willing to do that, Gavin. I was ready to take that plunge and never look back. Never. I was ready to risk everything for you, to push away the overwhelming fear I had because I knew you and I are worth it. We fell in love in a second. I was barely able to blink, and you had my entire world upside-down. I was scared you weren't ... real. I was scared no one could be as magnetic as you are to me. It still scares me. You still scare me." Pausing, Emily shook her head.
"Then I saw Gina, and all my fears came back. My heart wanted to believe you, but my head wouldn't allow it after I'd already taken that risk on us. I'm so sorry, Gavin. I don't know what else to say other than I love you and need you with everything inside me — Gail McHugh

It's unfair."
As a rule, life is unfair," I said.
Yeah, but I think I did say some awful things."
To Dick?"
Yeah."
I pulled the car over to the shoulder of the road and turned off the ignition. "That's just stupid, that kind of thinking," I said, nailing her with my eyes. "Instead of regretting what you did, you could have treated him decently from the beginning. You could've tried to be fair. But you didn't. You don't even have the right to be sorry. — Haruki Murakami

I say, sah! Sorry to trouble you to get off your big fat bottom and help a poor gel out!"
"I would not have helped if you hadn't have needed it. You were doing well on your own until the vermin started trying to use trickery." Dottie bounced on her footpaws, her large ears stand up straight. "I know, sah! The bally old blighters didn't know wot hit 'em!" Lord Brocktree hid a smile. — Brian Jacques

There were perhaps only three feet between them now - three feet and months and months of missing and hating him. Months of crawling out of that abyss he'd shoved her into. But now that she was here ... Everything was an effort not to say she was sorry. Sorry not for what she'd done to his face, but for the fact that her heart was healed - still fractured in spots, but healed - and he ... he was not in it. Not as he'd once been. — Sarah J. Maas

You're not going to believe this. I can barely believe it." "Go on." I licked my lips. "I met someone." Her squeal was so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear. "And?" "And I had three orgasms last night." Silence. "Coco?" "I'm sorry, I was in shock. Did you say three?" I smiled. "Yes." "Who is this wizard of O's?" "His — Melanie Harlow

Jonah wondered what JB could possibly find to say without bringing up some touchy topic: Hey, sorry about kidnapping your niece and taking her four hundred years back in time. Sorry she got stuck there for five years. Sorry we had to count on a thirteen-year-old to rescue her. Oh, wait - you don't know about any of that, do you? — Margaret Peterson Haddix

He inhaled sharply. "I'm glad to have you back."

I nodded, swallowing thickly. "I'm glad to be back."

"Hell, we all can agree on that." Luke picked up a donut. "There's nothing creepier than having a psychotic Apollyon caged in the basement."

"Ha," I said.

Luke winked and then tossed the donut to me. I caught it. Sugar flew everywhere.

"Or waiting for her to break loose and run amuck," Deacon added as I took a bite. He glanced across the table. "Or waiting for someone, no names mentioned, to not listen to us and go say hi."

Olivia's cheeks reddened as she stood. She approached slowly, waited for me to finish chewing. I started to apologize. "I'm really sorry - "

She socked me in the stomach. Hard. I doubled over, gasping for air. "Gods. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

The kind of trust that is necessary to build a great team is what I call vulnerability-based trust. This is what happens when members get to a point where they are completely comfortable being transparent, honest, and naked with one another, where they say and genuinely mean things like "I screwed up," "I need help," "Your idea is better than mine," "I wish I could learn to do that as well as you do," and even, "I'm sorry." When everyone on a team knows that everyone else is vulnerable enough to say and mean those things, and that no one is going to hide his or her weaknesses or mistakes, they develop a deep and uncommon sense of trust. They speak more freely and fearlessly with one another and don't waste time and energy putting on airs or pretending to be someone they're not. Over time, this creates a bond that exceeds what many people ever experience in their lives and, — Patrick Lencioni

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'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

There's something I have to say," I said seriously, looking her in the eye.
She smiled. "Oookay." She was mocking me-mocking my tone-but I didn't care.
"Okay. Here it is. I love you," I said. "And I never, ever wanted to hurt you. It's like, the number one thing I never want to do, but somehow, I keep doing it. And I'm sorry, I just ... that's all I wanted to say all this time. All I was trying to do ... with that thing with your dad, not telling you ... was not to hurt you. And I'm sorry that I did.
Alley stared at me.
"And I'm sorry that I did it again. With the Chloe thing. Which was stupid. Like, really, really, stupid. And I-"
"Can you just stop, for a second?" Ally said, holding up a hand.
"What?" I said.
"Can you say the first part again?" she asked, rolling her fingers around for a rewind.
I racked my brain.
"Um ... I love you?" I said.
"That's the part, Cuz I love you, too. — Kieran Scott

Rosy lifted her arm, tried to say something, then pointed at the cafe, held her head, covered her mouth and - humiliation of humiliations - she began to cry. Right there in the street. "I'm so confused," she said but it came out as a great honking wail.
"Come here, you silly girl," Phyllis said.
The woman put her arms around Rosy, patted her back, and for the first time in forever, Rosy allowed herself to just cry.
A young mother with twins in a pram passed them. The children's eyes tracked Rosy for a second before their faces crumpled and they started to cry too.
"I'm sorry," Rosy said, and flapped her arms. "I'm sorry. — R.G. Manse

I love orgasms. I say a prayer of thanks to God for them every day."
"You say a prayer of thanks for orgasms?" Elle asked.
"Of course. I mean, they're a gift from God, right? A woman doesn't need to have an orgasm to get pregnant, right?"
"Right."
"So if they have nothing to do with reproduction, then why do women have them?" Kryie asked. She raised her hand and pointed a finger up at hte ceiling, at the sky, where God lived. "Orgasms are God's way of saying He's sorry about periods and cramps."
"Apology accepted," Elle said. — Tiffany Reisz

I'm so sorry. I always felt like there was something off about me, and now I know. I'm broken."
It wrecked me all over again to hear her say that.
"You're not broken."
"Then how come I can't be fixed?" she asked, shaking as she held back tears. "If I'm not broken, how come no one can fix me? — Robyn Schneider

Every time I see this one particular movie star on a magazine, I can't help but feel terribly sorry for her because nobody respects her at all, and yet they keep interviewing her. And the interviews are all the same thing.
They start with what food they are eating in some restaurant. "As _ gingerly munched her Chinese Chicken Salad, she spoke of love." And all the covers say the same thing: "_ gets to the bottom of stardom, love, and his/her hit new movie/television show/album."
I think it's nice for stars to do interviews to make us think they are just like us, but to tell you the truth, I get the feeling that it's all a big lie. The problem is I don't know who's lying. — Stephen Chbosky

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

Parks scratches his neck. "Really? Even when she told me not to say?" She holds his gaze. "You let her go out there on her own. I already know damn well that you don't see a risk to Melanie as worth taking into account. But I do. And I want to know why you thought it was okay to send her out there." "You're wrong," Parks says. "Am I? About what?" "About me." He plants his butt against the opened cowling of the generator, folds his arms. "Okay, not that wrong. A couple of days ago, I said we should cut the kid loose. She pulled our irons out of the fire twice since then, and on top of that she's turned into a really good scout. I'd be sorry to lose her." Justineau — M.R. Carey

He's that senior offensive lineman I told you about who's coming off the injured reserve list. Anyway, Coach is concerned that he won't be ready to play at full--"
Mimi drops her head on the bar and starts to snore out loud. Very loud. So loud that a couple of patrons stop and stare at us.
"Mimi," I say in a low voice, "what the hell?"
She pops her head back up and rubs her eyes as if she just woke up from a catnap. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Katy. I was just so bored I fell right to sleep while you were talking about sports. Again. For like the millionth time. — Barbie Bohrman

Outcast!" When he'd disappeared into the bushes, Juniper wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry, Percy. I didn't mean to get you involved. Leneus is still a lord of the Wild. You don't want to make an enemy of him." "No problem," I said. "I've got worse enemies than overweight satyrs." Nico walked back to us. "Good job, Percy. Judging from the trail of goat pellets, I'd say you shook him up pretty well. — Rick Riordan

It's the truth." Her voice was barely more than breath.
"I believe you." He was gently kissing his way along her jaw. "You came all this way to bring me a photo."
"Yes." She said. "Well, I can..this morning..here bring it."
He raised his head, "What?"
She glared at him, "I can't talk when you're doing that."
He grinned, dimples appearing. "Sorry. Say it again. — Mary Jane Hathaway

What do you suppose 'Jack and the Beanstalk' is about?" she asked. Conner contemplated a moment and slyly grinned. "Bad beans can cause more than indigestion," he answered, laughing hysterically to himself. Alex pursed her lips to hide a smile. "What do you think the lesson of 'Little Red Riding Hood' is?" she asked him. "Do you think she should have just mailed her grandmother the gift basket?" "Now you're thinking!" he said. "Although, I've always felt sorry for Little Red Riding Hood. It's obvious her parents didn't like her very much." "Why do you say that?" Alex asked, wondering how he could have possibly construed that from the story. "Who sends their young daughter into a dark and wolf-occupied forest carrying freshly baked food and wearing a bright jacket?" Conner asked. "They were practically asking for a wolf to eat her! She must have annoyed the heck out of them!" Alex held back laughter with all her might but, to Conner's delight, she let a quiet chuckle slip. "I — Chris Colfer

You've got me confused with one of those women who needs a ring on her finger to feel complete. I don't put those kinds of expectations on men. And I'd say I'm sorry things didn't work out between you and Hugh, but based on your current amount of crazy, I'd say he dodged a bullet. — Kristen Painter

He stroked her pale cheek with his thumb, willing her to open those dark gypsy eyes he loved so much. He needed her impish gaze, her light laughter and intoxicating touch. He needed everything about her. She'd made him feel more alive than when he was human. Needing her kiss as much as he needed blood to survive, he pressed his lips to hers. "I beg of you, wake. Please, my precious Angel," he prayed as he held her in his arms. "Wake so I can tell you how sorry I am, and how much I love you. God, I love you." He couldn't say the words enough. "I love you. I love you." He repeated the litany over and over again until exhaustion overcame him and he fell asleep, still clinging to her with a vow never to let her go again. — Brooklyn Ann

For you she learned to wear a short black slip
and red lipstick,
how to order a glass of red wine
and finish it. She learned to reach out
as if to touch your arm and then not
touch it, changing the subject.
Didn't you think, she'd begin, or
Weren't you sorry. . . .

To call your best friends
by their schoolboy names
and give them kisses good-bye,
to look away when they say
Your wife! So your confidence grows.
She doesn't ask what you want
because she knows.

Isn't that what you think?

When actually she was only waiting
to be told Take off your dress---
to be stunned, and then do this,
never rehearsed, but perfectly obvious:
in one motion up, over, and gone,
the X of her arms crossing and uncrossing,
her face flashing away from you in the fabric
so that you couldn't say if she was
appearing or disappearing. — Deborah Garrison

Moron?" I asked, trying to lighten the suddenly tense mood. She covered her eyes with one hand. "It was the best I could come up with on the spot. Now that he's gone, I have so many bitchier things to say." Her chin trembled, and I was the one that felt like a moron. "I'm sorry," I whispered. — Rachel Higginson

At her door, Jenna stopped. "Soph, I really am
"
"Jenna, if you say sorry one more time, I'm going to punch you in your tiny pink head. — Rachel Hawkins

I think this is science, not God. I don't know much about God. I'm agnostic. My mother is a Catholic and she has never once done a single thing from the Bible, ever. I have seen her walk past starving people on the streets and not even bat an eyelash. To me Christians seem like the most selfish people on the planet. They're so worried about getting into Heaven, they don't think about the fact that their actions are what get them there. Not how many times they say sorry to God. To me anyway. Sorry, are you a Christian? — A.E. Watson

Wait: His boyfriend? He was gay? The focus on the lens sharpened, and I could see it clearly now. Of course he was gay. Everyone could see that, except the chubby little lonely heart sitting at seven o'clock, drawing sparkly rainbows on the page with her glitter crayons. I was still beating myself up when the round robin arrived to me, and I sputtered along trying to assemble some phony epiphany with strong verbs, but tears dripped down my face.
The room fell into silence as people waited for me to explain. But what could I possibly say? That I had just discovered my future husband was gay? That I was going to live the rest of my life surrounded by nothing but empty lasagna pans and an overloved cat destined to die before me?
"I'm sorry," I finally said. "I was just reminded of something very painful." And I guess that wasn't a lie. — Sarah Hepola

One doesn't have to be fond of a person to make use of them." "That explains what the patron gets out of it, but not what the ingenii gets for betraying their own kind." Isabel taps her outsized, ragged-glass thumbnail against the table. "Ladies write editorials declaring they don't wish for the vote," she says, with something hovering between exaggerated patience and quite the reverse. "Mill-hands testify in courts of law that if they are forced to work in conditions of greater safety their children will starve. People do things that run counter to their own interests all the time. Why would ingenii be any different?" "Isabel, I'm sorry, but I cannot think about female suffrage or the rights of mill-hands just this instant," I say, and rest my forehead on my palm. — Ankaret Wells

He'd stolen a kiss, and been transported to heaven. "I won't say I'm sorry, Susanna. Even if you think I should."
Her lips looked kissed and a bit plump. "I didn't ask you to. — Caroline Fyffe

Feel free to check out the hotel and talk to the staff," he said slipping out of bed. "And I'm happy to give you an up-close look at what we're doing." When she didn't answer, he glanced over his shoulder. Then cleared his throat.
Her attention jumped from his ass to his face. "Sorry, what did you say/"
"I said
"
She sat up, letting the sheet fall to her waist. And damn if she wasn't the most gorgeous thing with her creamy skin, pert breasts, and mussed hair.
He moaned like a guy totally whipped and stalked back to the bed where he climbed on top of her.
"Connor." She giggled and wiggled beneath him. Her arms went around his neck. "What are you doing?"
"Forgetting the time." He kissed her and didn't leave until they'd both had their fill. — Robin Bielman

If her mother had been observing this interaction, she'd tell Clementine she was wrong, that she needed to keep talking, to say everything that was on her mind, to communicate, to leave no possibility for misinterpretation.

If her father were here, he'd put his finger to his lips and say, "Shh."

Clementine settled for two words.

"I'm sorry," she said. — Liane Moriarty

An when Ike walks through that door- after I finish kissin him to death- I'm gonna tie him to that chair an never let him go, cux life's too gawdamn short an it's about time I start takin my own advice. I might need yer help, of course, but I'm sure you won't mind, seein how-
Molly! Jack grabs her hand. Stop, Molly, please. Dammit Moll. Ike ain't gonna walk through the door.
She goes still. Very still. Her smile fades. Please don't say it, she whispers.
He can't bear to. But he has to. Ike's dead, he says. He's dead, Molly. I'm sorry. — Moira Young

He remained silent, and she gentled her voice. I never planned for this. I never planned to make this a real marriage. But I love you, Nick. I've just been waiting for the right time to tell you. And I'm sorry I sprung it on you like this, but I didn't want to wait. Please say something. Anything. — Jennifer Probst

Sorry, Bex," Jason said "You don't have the recognizable facial characteristics - such as a huge chin, or a large amount of real estate between the eyes - that would merit the bestowing of a criminal mastermind nickname such as Lockjaw or Walleye. Whereas Crazytop here ... well, just look at her."
"Atleast I can blow-dry my hair straight," I pointed out. "Which is more than what I can say for your nose, Hawkface. — Meg Cabot

I'm so sorry," he whispered to her, knowing she couldn't hear. I'm so sorry."
Her mouth moved, working to speak, and he leaned in to make out what she was trying to say.
"Me ... too," she whispered. "I only ever ... cared for ... — James Dashner

I reached for the switch on my desk lamp and flashed HELLO.
The lights switched off in Cassidy's bedroom, and her flashlight flicked on.
SORRY.
"She's sorry," I told Cooper, because he didn't understand Morse code.
He lifted his head as if to say But you already knew that, old sport.
Her flashlight flickered again.
FORGIVE ME.
This time, I didn't hesitate.
ALWAYS, I replied. — Robyn Schneider

Fyodor Pavlovitch was drunk when he heard of his wife's death, and the story is that he ran out into the street and began shouting with joy, raising his hands to Heaven: "Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace," but others say he wept without restraint like a little child, so much so that people were sorry for him, in spite of the repulsion he inspired. It is quite possible that both versions were true, that he rejoiced at his release, and at the same time wept for her who released him. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Turner didn't have to put up with this. He had enough trouble with George's sarcasm. He held his hand. "Keys please."
Her face fell. "Sorry. I sometimes speak without thinking. Well, not sometimes. Often. Never an unspoken thought, my dad used to say. And my mum. And my employers. — Barbara Elsborg

A Letter from a Muse to Her Poet: Dear sir, I was called away and couldn't bring you, but now I feel haunted. I know that sometimes you felt I was a part of you and that losing me would leave a hole in your heart, but that's not true. I liked to pretend I was the core of your talent, but it wasn't me. Everything you do, the ideas you weave, the lines you write, the words you choose, it was always only you. Please forgive me. I'm sorry that I didn't say goodbye. — Laura Whitcomb

Your tits are bigger," Shiva said.
"SHIVA!" Hema and Ghosh said at the same time.
"Sorry," he said, surprised by their reaction. "I meant her breasts are bigger," he said.
"SHIVA! That isn't the sort of thing you say to a woman," Hema said.
"I can't say it to a man," Shiva said, looking impatient. — Abraham Verghese

Um, sorry we touched your precious," I say, pointing to his guitar. He chuckles. "Normally I'd want to break your fingers but since you knew what you were doing and used her for good instead of evil, I'll say it's no problem." "What constitutes evil?" "Taylor Swift. — Anne Mercier

You could say sorry," suggested Harry bluntly.
"What, and get attacked by another flock of canaries?" muttered Ron.
"What did you have to imitate her for?"
"She laughed at my mustache!"
"So did I, it was the stupidest thing I've ever seen. — J.K. Rowling

WINTER SPOILER KINDA
Cinder stared at his whitened knuckles and struggled for something meaningful to say. Her grand plan of revolution and change had just begun and already she felt like a failure. This seemed worse than failing the people of Luna, though. She'd failed the people she cared about most in the universe.
Finally, she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Thorne."
"Yeah," he said. "Me too. — Marissa Meyer

What are you doing here, Carrington? I didn't expect you today." "I came to see if Miss Sullivan would care to go for a drive," Carrington said, turning hopeful eyes toward Addie. Her cheeks grew pink. "I'm flattered, Mr. Carrington, but I'm sorry to say I must decline. Edward needs me, and I have other work I must attend to." Carrington huffed and turned to John. "You surely aren't going to work Miss Sullivan all the time, young man." "Of course not. She's welcome to take off any afternoon she pleases, and one whole day a week," John said, glancing at Addie. "Just please clear it with me, Miss Sullivan." "You're very generous," Addie said, standing. "Thank you for your offer, Lord Carrington, but I'm going to be much too busy for the next few weeks for a social life. I need to devote all my free time to Mrs. Eaton's wardrobe. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to tend to Edward. — Colleen Coble