Sorry Pain Quotes & Sayings

I'm sorry, I had a meeting"
I stand behind his chair. "Liar," under my breath.
"You weren't at a meeting," take a breath, gain speed, bursting,
"You were with Angie in the office.
I saw you. I saw you. You clamp us down, you think no one knows.
You hurt my brother! My sister!
You hurt my friend! Small trusting prey, huh?
You had to squash some weak person already in pain, thinking she loved you.
You could have chosen to hurt me!
But I'm not worth enough, I never am and you picked poor Angie, you were going to RAPE her, I SAW YOU TRY TO RAPE ANGIE, you fucking MONSTER! — Thalia Chaltas

He also said that I would never get an apology out of you." There was a long pause. "I want one. Now."
Xcor put aside his soup and found himself searching the wounds he had given himself, recalling all that pain, all that blood - which had dried brown on the floorboards beneath him.
"And then what," he said in a rough voice.
"You'll have to find out."
Fair enough, Xcor thought.
Without grace - not that he had any, anyway - he rose to his feet. At his full height, he was unsteady for too many reasons to count, and the off-balance feeling got even worse as he met the eyes of his ... friend.
Looking Throe in the face, he stepped up and put out his palm. "I am sorry."
Three simple words spoken loud and clear. And they didn't go nearly far enough.
"I was wrong to treat you as I did. I am ... not as much of the Bloodletter as I thought - as I have e'er wanted to be. — J.R. Ward

Compassion and pity are not the same: pity is looking down on someone, feeling sorry for them and offering nothing; compassion is seeing their pain and offering them understanding. — Jasinda Wilder

I will not let you lose your family. I won't let it happen to you." Eve's hands circled his big, tense neck.
He shook his head and let out a defeated breath. "I'm so sorry, Eve. I can't even ... Well, now I guess I can imagine what I did to you - just a little."
Her words had hurt him, knocked him down. That's not what she'd intended. She would have to lay it out.
"Beckett, I'll save you from that fate because I love you. I love you." She let her hands slip to his chest.
His heart. His beautiful heart, surrounded by thorns, guns, and pain. — Debra Anastasia

For shit's sake, it wasn't like there was a twelve-step for being the Scribe Virgin's kid:
Hi, I'm Vishous. I'm her son and I've been her son for three hundred years.
HI, VISHOUS.
She's done a head job on me again, and I'm trying not to go to the Other Side and scream bloody murder at her.
WE UNDERSTAND, VISHOUS.
And on the bloody note, I'd like to dig up my father and kill him all over again, but I can't. So I'm just going to try to keep my sister alive even though she's paralyzed, and attempt to fight the urge to find some pain so I can deal with this Payne.
YOU'RE A STRAIGHT-UP PUSSY, VISHOUS, BUT WE SUPPORT YOUR SORRY ASS. — J.R. Ward

Sorry for all the pain and loneliness and disappointment. But there is this, too. — Libba Bray

I stop dead in my tracks when I see Nash leaning against the wall right outside the ladies' room. His legs are crossed casually at the ankle, as his arms are crossed casually over his chest. His smile is faint. And sad.
Finally, he straightens and steps toward me. He doesn't stop until he is mere inches from me, forcing me to tilt my face up just to maintain eye contact.
He brushes his thumb over the ridge of my cheekbone at the corner of my eye. I wonder briefly if I missed a streak of mascara.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, closing his eyes as if in pain. His face is etched with regret and it tugs at my heart.
"Don't be. You can't control other people. I just hope I haven't embarrassed you too badly, or ruined any important business connections you were hoping to make."
"I don't care about business connections. Not at this cost. — M. Leighton

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

Pity is when I'm feeling sorry for someone but I'm looking down on them, I'm patronizing them, feeling like I'm giving them a gift. Compassion and empathy is when I feel bad for them, but I'm on the same level. That I've felt what they are feeling too, that I have experienced pain and sorrow like they have. I am with them, not above them. Same goes for self-pity. — Stu Jenks

I'm sorry if ... I get too personal, if I make you uncomfortable, but writing is like one of the seven deadly sins, like Sharing on Mr. Rogers, and once you get the bug you're trapped in The Neighborhood of Make-Believe forever. — Shannon Celebi

It is hard to lose the people we love ,but feeling sorry they died is selfish.Dying is going heaven home to God we know your papa is in heaven with our Lady and Jesus.Let us try to be happy for him. — Maryanne Raphael

The guide showed us a coffee-colored piece of sculpture which he said was considered to have come from the hand of Phidias, since it was not possible that any other artist, of any epoch, could have copied nature with such faultless accuracy. The figure was that of a man without a skin; with every vein, artery, muscle, every fibre and tendon and tissue of the human frame, represented in detail. It looked natural, because somehow it looked as if it were in pain. A skinned man would be likely to look that way, unless his attention were occupied with some other matter. It was a hideous thing, and yet there was a fascination about it some where. I am sorry I saw it, because I shall always see it, now. I shall dream of it, sometimes. I shall dream that it is resting its corded arms on the bed's head and looking down on me with its dead eyes; I shall dream that it is stretched between the sheets with me and touching me with its exposed muscles and its stringy cold legs. — Mark Twain

A long hug when you really need it Sometimes we all get rattled. When bad news surprises you, painful memories flash back, or heavy moments turn your stomach to mush, it's great to fall into a warm and comforting pair of big, wide open arms. Shaking with sobs, dripping with tears, you snort up your runny nose and smear snot across their shoulder as that hug relaxes you and comforts you and helps you get through everything, even for a minute, even for a moment. Maybe there are "It's going to be okay" whispers, some gentle back rubbing, or just the quiet silence of knowing that they're not going to let go until you let go first. As their steady arms support you, and the pain washes over you, the hug gives you a warm glow in a shivery moment. So when you eventually pull back, smile that classic "I'm sorry and thank you" smile, and swipe wet bangs off your forehead, you still might not feel great, but if you're lucky you'll feel a little more AWESOME! — Neil Pasricha

HERMIONE: I'm sorry, Severus.
SNAPE looks at her, and then swallows the pain. He indicates RON with a flick of his head.
SNAPE: Well, at least I'm not married to him. — Jack Thorne

Claire, I'm sorry. I know now that I did everything wrong with you. By loving you so much, I turned into everything you'd ever feared. I wanted to take all your pain away, and instead I only gave you more. I drove you away and I know you will never trust me. You will always think that I'm like him. — Sydney Landon

How did I not see it? Pain is everywhere. I'm just another sorry story. All these people wearing smiles, dragging themselves around
do they all know already? Do they realize how fast the world can change? — Amy McNamara

Christian Louboutin, I love you, but honey, please! But when you have this much weight, you've got to give us a little platform. Sorry! The shoes are stunning though. An ounce of pain, it's worth it. — Octavia Spencer

I'm sorry. I use my rapier wit to hide my inner pain. — Cassandra Clare

Yes, Soteria. I have. I assure you, my life has never been an easy one and you should be grateful every day you live that you can't imagine what kind of childhood I had. (Acheron)
I'm sorry, Ash. I didn't know. (Tory)
It's easy to look at people and make quick judgments about them, their present, and their past, but you'd be amazed at the pain and tears a single smile hides. What a person shows to the world is only one tiny facet of the iceberg hidden from sight. And more often than not, it's lined with cracks and scars that go all the way to the foundations of their soul. (Acheron) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I am sorry I ran from you. I am still running, running from that knowledge, that eye, that love from which there is no refuge. For you meant only love, and love, and I felt only fear, and pain. So once in Israel love came to us incarnate, stood in the doorway between two worlds, and we were all afraid. — Annie Dillard

I'm Sorry are two of the most powerful words in our language, especially when they are not flipped blithely over the shoulder but spoken from the heart. They help restore order, balance, harmony. They reduce pain. They heal broken friendship. If they were medecine, they'd be called a miracle. — Jerry Spinelli

A friend once told me that she understood pity as 'I'm sorry for you', whereas compassion is 'I feel your pain because I see that you could be me and I could be you'. — Shannon Moroney

Christ's version of kindness:
I know you are hurt. I contributed to that. Maybe, I should have said more. Done more. Listened. I am sorry for my part in the situation. I am sorry if I caused you any pain or confused you with my actions or words. How can I help you move on? I want you to have peace in your life. Let's end this by communicating.
The world's perverted version of kindness:
You caused your own pain. You get what you get. Get over it and move on. Maybe, one day you will figure out what happiness really means. By the way, I am not responsible for giving it to you. Nor, do I have to put up with people that don't bring me joy or who I can't trust. I am only responsible for myself. I will pray for you because I am a good Christian. — Shannon L. Alder

You believe you could not live with the pain. Such pain is not lived with. It is only endured. I am sorry. — Erin Morgenstern

I'm so sorry, Brody. I won't bullshit you and feed you a line about how it will get easier, because I know it won't. You don't get over losing someone you love. You just learn to live through the pain every day as you try to have some kind of normalcy in your life. — Danielle Jamie

I'm sorry,' I said. 'I'm sorry for everything. For the past and the future.' An apology, said while in dull pain, made me feel as close to human as it was possible to feel. I could almost have written a poem. — Matt Haig

He was sorry, genuinely sorry, for the pain she was in. Yet the revelation had caused certain other feelings - feelings he usually kept under tight rein, considering them both misguided and dangerous - to flex inside him, to test their strength against their restraining bonds. — Robert Galbraith

No. I made that choice. I let all that anger and pain get twisted up in my thoughts for you." He leaned in. "It fucking kills me. Every night. I relive what I did to you every night." His forehead rested against mine. "Until you," he said softly, "I never felt truly helpless. — Nenia Campbell

Love is full of pain and mistakes. That's what makes it interesting and that's why we explore relationships in literature. That whole 'love is never having to say you're sorry' crap is just that, crap. Love is learning how to say you're sorry. — Richard Paul Evans

When people confide their deep hurt to you these days, you are at a loss for what to say. A long time ago, you used to say, "I'll be praying for you," and you always meant to do that, to take those heavy burdens off their shoulders and hoist them up to the Lord. But the truth is, you usually forgot. Usually, this was the thing you said to end the conversation, a nice way to say, "I'm sorry. I can no longer handle the depth of your pain. I don't want to talk about this anymore. — Addie Zierman

It was ludicrous to think that we could just talk our way out of shame, that shame was necessary, that it prevented us from repeating shameful actions and that it motivated us to say we were sorry and to seek forgiveness and to empathize with our fellow humans and to feel the pain of self-loathing which motivated some of us to write books as a futile attempt at atonement, and shame also helped, I told my friend, to fuck up relationships and fucked-up relationships are the life force of books and movies and theatre so sure, let's get rid of shame but then we can kiss art goodbye too. — Miriam Toews

Rachel snatched her hand back. Sorry, I forgot the rules. Everything's a joke until it's not, and words don't mean anything until you want them to. — Kit Rocha

Well, any love makes us vulnerable. Whatever we love will give the gift of pain somewhere along the road. But who would live sealed in spiritual cellophane just to keep from ever being hurt? There are a few people like that. I'm sorry for them. I think they are as good as dead. — Gladys Taber

Liz, it's so easy to say 'I'm sorry.' It costs nothing and it saves a mint of pain. Those two words are the common coin of daily life, but especially between people who love each other. — Pearl S. Buck

I would have liked to come into the grocery some morning and see them all, even the Elberts and the children, lying there crying with the pain of dying. I would help myself to groceries, I thought, stepping over their bodies, taking whatever I fancied from the shelves, and go home, with perhaps a kick for Mrs.Donell while she lay there. I was never sorry when I had thoughts like this; I only wished they would come true. — Shirley Jackson

Compassion is a wonderful thing. It's what one feels when one looks at a squashed caterpillar. An elevating experience. One can let oneself go and spread
you know, like taking a girdle off. You don't have to hold your stomach, your heart or your spirit up
when you feel compassion. All you have to do is look down. It's much easier. When you look up, you get a pain in the neck. Compassion is the greatest virtue. It justifies suffering. There's got to be suffering in the world, else how would we be virtuous and feel compassion? ... Oh, it has an antithesis
but such a hard, demanding one ... Admiration, Mrs. Jones, admiration. But that takes more than a girdle ... So I say that anyone for whom we can't feel sorry is a vicious person. Like Howard Roark. — Ayn Rand

Elizabeth, what this man has done is terrible. There aren't any words that are strong enough to describe how wicked and evil he is! He has taken nine months of your life that you will never get back again. But the best punishment you could ever give him is to be happy. To move forward with your life. To do exactly what you want. Because, yes, this will probably go to trial and some kind of sentencing will be given to him and that wicked woman. But even if that's true, you may never feel like justice has been served or that true restitution has been made ...
You be happy, Elizabeth. Just be happy. If you go and feel sorry for yourself, or if you dwell on what has happened, if you hold on to your pain, that is allowing him to steal more of your life away. So don't you do that! Don't you let him! There is no way that he deserves that. Not one more second of your life. You keep every second for yourself. You keep them and be happy ... — Elizabeth Smart

Do you really think I've been murdered?" Michael's voice was soft, but I still heard it from across the bedroom. He stood in the doorway with a rather solemn expression. Words failed me. Would he really want to hear the answer? If it were me, would I want to know if someone killed me? Maybe.
I took a deep breath. "I'll be honest with you. It doesn't look good. The fact that no one knows you're dead yet makes me worry that your death might have been intentional."
I stepped closer to him, staring all the way up into his face. "But if you want the truth, I don't think the reason you died was your fault. You're a pain in the ass, but you're a good guy. I'm sorry this happened to you."
He gazed at me for a handful of seconds before nodding and his hair slid forward into his eyes. For some reason, it was the first time Michael seemed human. He was always so amiable and confident that seeing him be vulnerable felt odd.
"Thank you."
"Come on. Let's go find some answers. — Kyoko M.

I'm sorry. I mean it too. I'm sorry for your pain and I'm sorry that you're having a hard time right now. I guess ... if life was easy there would be no point. You aren't going to find all the answers you're looking for straight away. It will probably take a while. I think the key is to keep moving until you realize what's right for you. Don't give up, don't put your life on hold, and don't surge forward into the darkness. Just be you. Because really ... what else can you be? — Alysha Speer

He spoke rapidly in-between his tender kisses. I love you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. The women ... I was so scared to touch you. You didn't want me ... I couldn't take the pain. I tried to get over you. Every time with them, I was with you. I'm so sorry ... I love you. — S.C. Stephens

I've thought about what I've done since I moved to Truly, and I'm sorry that I hurt you, Mick. But I'm not sorry that I met you and fell in love with you. Loving you has broken my heart and caused me pain, but it made me a better person. I love you, Mick, and I hope that someday you find someone you can love. You deserve more in life than a string of women you don't really care about and who don't care all that much for you. Loving you taught me that. It taught me how it feels to love a man, and I hope that someday I can find someone who will love me the way that you can't. Because I deserve more that a string of men who don't really care about me. — Rachel Gibson

Some kind of love, Some Say
Is it true the ribs can tell the kick
Of a beast from a lover's fist?
The bruised bones record it well
The sudden shock, the hard impact
Then swollen lids
Sorry eyes spoke not of lost romance
But of hurt
Hate is often confused
Its limits are in zones beyond itself
And sadists will not learn that
Love, by nature, extracts a pain
Unequalled on the rack — Maya Angelou

You don't say, "I'm sorry,"' he says. 'Getting injections, and experiencing pain, is part of life. There's no reason to apologize for that.' He seems to be channelling Rousseau, who said, 'If by too much care you spare them every kind of discomfort, you are preparing great miseries for them.' (I'm not sure what Rousseau thought about suppositories.) — Pamela Druckerman

I'm not staying with him for the pain. It's what he says in his sleep. When he's moaning, he whispers. The cry he utters with a face so full of sorrow.
"So ... "
" ... rry ... "
"I'm sorry ... "
It makes me sad that no one hears his apology. — SHOOWA

You can only exist as far as your mind will allow you to exist, and I think chronic pain will stop time dead in its tracks. You feel like you're the only one, and how unfair it is, and a million different feel-sorry-for-yourself type feelings. — Phil Anselmo

Sorry means you feel the pulse of other people's pain as well as your own, and saying it means you take a share of it. And so it binds us together, makes us trodden and sodden as one another. Sorry is a lot of things. It's a hole refilled. A debt repaid. Sorry is the wake of misdeed. It's the crippling ripple of consequence. Sorry is sadness, just as knowing is sadness. Sorry is sometimes self-pity. But Sorry, really, is not about you. It's theirs to take or leave. — Craig Silvey

It's said (truly) that most women forget the pain of childbirth; I think that we all forget the pain of being a child at school for the first time, the sheer ineptitude, as though you'll never learn to mark out your own space. It's double shaming - shaming to REMEMBER as well, to fee so sorry for your scabby little self back there in small people's purgatory. — Lorna Sage

For a moment, I felt sorry for him. The pain and disappointment of his life hung about him like a cloak. It permeated the air, giving him a rank and bitter scent. This, I mused, was an example of human betrayal left festering, and I felt some compassion for the man whose life had been so disturbed by his wife's ambitions and dishonesty. — Evette Davis

I recognize that by saying that I'm deeply sorry, it might not be enough and sufficient to address the pain and the hurt that I have caused you. Therefore, I want to ask for your forgiveness for my actions, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. — Marion Jones

She winced and covered her ears as Eric,onstage, wrestled with his microphone.
"Sorry about that, guys!" he yelled. "All right. I'm Eric, and this is my homeboy Matt on the drums. My first poem is called 'Untitled.'" He screwed up his face as if in pain, and wailed into the mike. "Come my faux juggernaut, my nefarious loins! Slather every protuberance with arid zeal!"
Simon slid down in his seat. "Please don't tell anyone I know him."
Clary giggled. "Who uses the word 'loins'?"
"Eric," Simon said grimly. "All his poems have loins in them."
'Turgid is my torment!" Eric wailed. "Agony swells within!"
"You bet it does," Clary said. — Cassandra Clare

I'm sorry, Ben," Tori soothed, her hand cupping his shoulder as she blotted the excess wetness from his nape with a towel and waited for the liquor to evaporate. "I'm almost done." Too bad. He was rather enjoying her fussing over him. Well, except for the excruciating pain. Tori had never voluntarily touched him. Soothed him. Murmured his name in the affectionate tone usually reserved solely for Lewis. Getting kicked in the head seemed to have advanced his wooing. He could live with temporary pain if it helped him claim a permanent hold on the woman he loved. Yet — Karen Witemeyer

I know any move I would make toward Darius, any act of recognition, would only result in punishment for him. So we just stare into each other's eyes. Darius, now a mute slave; me, now headed to death. What would we say, anyway? That we're sorry for the other's lot? That we ache for the other's pain? — Suzanne Collins

Gen. What are you - " Curtis stopped when his voice came out sounding like Clint Eastwood. He coughed, trying to clear his throat. Genesis smiled back at him and picked up a cup of water from his hospital tray. He was so gentle when lifting Curtis' head, he had to remembering to stop swooning like a fangirl and swallow. Genesis delicately rested his head back on the pillow. "If you're trying to ask, what I'm doing here, we have a date remember?" Genesis said in the sexiest voice Curtis had ever heard. Damn. How many voices does this man have? "Our date isn't until Friday," Curtis croaked. "It is Friday," Genesis said with a serious expression. Curtis bolted upright. "What?" he yelled, wincing at the pain that stupid move caused. Genesis put his hand on his chest, gently pushing him back down, trying to contain his deep laughter. "Sorry. Bad joke to play on a concussion patient." Curtis rolled his eyes. "You're an ass, Gen." Genesis — A.E. Via

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

I'm sorry," Sylvan murmured, kneeling in front of her. And then she felt the needle slide home and liquid fire was traveling up her arm. Sophie gasped as tears sprang to her eyes. "It burns! Is it supposed to burn like that?" "Only for a moment," Sylvan assured her. His voice sounded strange and Sophie looked up at him. What she saw took her mind off the burning in her vein. Unshed tears glimmered in his ice blue eyes and the pain on his face was unmistakable. "Sylvan?" she whispered. Freeing her hand from Kat's supportive grip, she reached out to touch his cheek. "I'm sorry. I hate being the cause of your pain." His deep voice was rough with emotion and he looked away, blinking rapidly. "It's all right," she said softly as he withdrew the needle and sealed her wound with flesh glue. "You couldn't help it." "But I didn't want to hurt you," he said fiercely and looked at her again. "I never want to do that, Sophia." "I know," she whispered. For — Evangeline Anderson

I am sorry, Miss Grey, you should think it necessary to interfere with Master Bloomfield's amusements; he was very much distressed about you destroying the birds.'

'When Master Bloomfield's amusements consist in injuring sentient creatures,' I answered, 'I think it my duty to interfere.'

'You seemed to have forgotten,' said she, calmly, 'that the creatures were all created for our convenience.'

I thought that doctrine admitted some doubt, but merely replied - 'If they were, we have no right to torment them for our amusement. — Anne Bronte

God, Abby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, he said as he stared out the bay window onto the lake. The serene morning calm of the water was laughing at his riptide of emotions. In all his life, he'd never been as tortured as he was now. Rip his limbs apart, whip his back raw, waterboard him, anything but this. Because this ... this was far worse. It was her pain. Her torture that was destroying his sanity. He had no control over it. He couldn't stop it.
He hated that he wasn't strong enough to withstand this. Most of all, he hated that he cared so much about her.
Cause he knew.
He knew one certainty in all this.
She had managed to touch a piece of his ice-cold heart. And it wasn't letting him go. — Cindy Paterson

She's going to have to be more than smart. She'll have to be brilliant."
"She is. That's what makes her a pain in the ass."
"Stuck on her, are you?" David waved the comment away. "Sorry. Too personal."
"I was wondering if you were asking as a corporate suit, an associate or as the guy who's dating
her mother."
"I was aiming toward friend. — Nora Roberts

It wasn't courage that motivated this casual, impersonal manner of treating so much pain; it was a special brand of cowardice, a destructive defense mechanism, forcing others to listen to the most horrendous experiences and yet denying them the moment of empathy: don't feel sorry for me; nothing is too big for me to handle. This is nothing, nothing really. — Azar Nafisi

As a child Gottfried was very close to his mother, and his memories of those early years are sunny and warm. But before he turned ten, his mother developed cancer, and died in great pain. The young boy could have felt sorry for himself and become depressed, or he could have adopted hardened cynicism as a defense. Instead he began to think of the disease as his personal enemy, and swore to defeat it. In time he earned a medical degree and became a research oncologist, and the results of his work have become part of the pattern of knowledge that eventually will free mankind of this scourge. In this case, again, a personal tragedy became transformed into a challenge that can be met. In developing skills to meet that challenge, the individual improves the lives of other people. — Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

Maybe time would not feel as heavy if I didn't have this guilt - the guilt of knowing the truth and stuffing it down where no one can see it. — Veronica Roth

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

Poirot was an extraordinary looking little man. He was hardly more than five feet, four inches, but carried himself with great dignity. His head was exactly the shape of an egg, and he always perched it a little on one side. His moustache was very stiff and military. The neatness of his attire was almost incredible. I believe a speck of dust would have caused him more pain than a bullet wound. Yet this quaint dandyfied little man who, I was sorry to see, now limped badly, had been in his time one of the most celebrated members of the Belgian police. As a detective, his flair had been extraordinary, and he had achieved triumphs by unravelling some of the most baffling cases of the day. — Agatha Christie

I am sorry this became, a poem
I beg you, please do not think as blame
Trust me as you trust god
I am your friend, in pain
This insane writing, which turned into poem — Santosh Kalwar

I do not fear being hurt, nor am I ever sorry should such pain take hold of me. My real fear would be to never know the the joy of loving someone so deeply as to be that vulnerable ... — Tonny K. Brown

I been double-crossed now for the very last time and now I'm finally free
I kissed goodbye the howling beast on the borderline which separated you from me
You'll never know the hurt I suffer nor the pain I rise above
And I'll never know the same about you, your holiness or you kind of love
And it makes me feel so sorry. — Bob Dylan

True sorrows do not pass like clouds or inclement weather ... Sorrows are absorbed over time, and you reshape yourself around them. How you absorb them makes you what you are for good or ill. I think the only true and right way is to take our sorrows into us bravely and wholly, knowing they will hurt, and accepting that sometimes pain is unavoidable. It is when grief is suppressed or hidden that it does harm — Isobelle Carmody

She's spending the night here and she's more than welcome. She just went to bed about an hour ago after watching every move our doctor made." Without thinking, he carefully tucked the sheet around her body. "I'll make sure you're safe, doc. I promise." "I'm sorry," she said after several moments. "For what?" Irene shrugged, then grimaced, probably regretting the move, considering the pain it most likely caused. "For always thinking — Shelly Laurenston

You know we talked about where people go when they die. I just believe you go someplace and I seen her layin there and I thought maybe she wouldn't go to heaven because, you know, I thought she wouldn't and I thought about God forgivin people and I thought about if I could ask God to forgive me for killin that son of a bitch because you and me both know I ain't sorry for it and I reckon this sounds ignorant but I didn't want to be forgiven if she wasn't. I didn't want to do or be nothin that she wasn't like going to heaven or anything like that. — Cormac McCarthy

I'm sorry for the anguished hearts that break with passion's strain, But I'm sorrier for the poor starved souls that never knew love's pain, Who hunger on through barren years not tasting joys they crave, For sadder far is such a lot than weeping o'er a grave. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Kalmar nodded. "I'm sorry, Papa. I wasn't strong enough."
"None of us are, lad. Me least of all." Esben smiled and took a rattling breath. "But it's weakness that the Maker turns to strength. Your fur is why you alone loved a dying cloven. You alone in all the world knew my need and ministered to my wounds." Esben pulled Kalmar closer and kissed him on the head. "And in my weakness, I alone know your need. Hear me, son. I loved you when you were born. I loved you when I wept in the Deeps of Throg. I loved you even as you sang the song that broke you. And I love you now in the glory of your humility. You're more fit to be the king than I ever was. Do you understand?"
Kalmar shook his head.
Esben smiled and shuddered with pain. "A good answer, my boy. Then do you believe that I love you?"
"Yes, sir. I believe you." Kalmar buried his face in his father's fur.
"Remember that in the days to come. Nia, Janner, Leeli - help him to remember. — Andrew Peterson

Please," he says. "I'm begging you to stop."
I still.
"I can't stomach your pain," he says. "I can feel it so strongly and it's making me crazy- please," he says to me. "Don't be sad. Or hurt. Or guilty. You've done nothing wrong."
"I'm sorry-"
"Don't be sorry, either," he says. "God, the only reason I'm not going to kill Kent for this is because I know it would only upset you more. — Tahereh Mafi

Subject: Desert Dick
So, I'm emailing you right now because I just thought about how much pain you're in currently ... We haven't talked about you getting laid in quite a while, and that concerns me. Greatly. Like, I've CRIED about your lack of pu**y ... I'm very sorry that so many women have sent you fraudulent pictures and given you a severe case of blue balls. I'm attaching the links to a top of the line lotion that I think you should invest in for the weeks to come.
Your dick is in my prayers,
- Alyssa. — Whitney Gracia Williams

Sorry doesn't mean anything! Not when you're still with him. It's not just that you cheated - it's that he's still here, and you're still with him. It just goes on and on, and it hurts every single time I see you with him. I hate it that he makes you smile, and that there's nothing I can do to stop this. I can't think straight, and everything hurts, and nothing makes sense anymore. You're shredding my heart with one hand and stroking his ego with the other. And it's killing me, Faythe. You're killing me. And it's only going to get worse, now that everyone knows. — Rachel Vincent

I couldn't keep living this lie for a minute more. I've been sober for two hundred and eighty-three days. My sobriety requires me to apologize to you, but my heart can't take another day without you knowing how much I still love you, and how deeply sorry I am for the pain I've caused you. — Kindle Alexander

They thought back on the tales that the soldier had told. They remembered Hazel, the gentle Bethlehem donkey, who used the last of her strength helping those who needed her. They remembered the donkey who stood on the mountain and accepted suffering so that others would not know pain. They remembered the donkey with a hundred names, the sturdy friend of Jack who proved that the most humble being can have the most courageous heart. They gazed at the soldier, who said, 'I fear that John will be sorry he gave the silver donkey to me. The silver donkey belongs to the trustworthy and the brave. — Sonya Hartnett

I wish this story were different. I wish it were more civilized. I wish it showed me in a better light, if not happier, than at least more active, less hesitant, less distracted by trivia. I wish it had more shape. I wish t were about love, or about sudden realizations important to one's life, or even about sunsets, birds, rainstorms, or snow. I'm sorry there is so much pain in this story. I'm sorry it's in fragments, like a body caught in crossfire or pulled apart by force. But there is nothing I can do to change it. — Margaret Atwood

I'm so sorry. God, baby. What were you doing? You ... God." He took a shaky breath. "You couldn't breathe. He hit you so hard and you went down and fuck, sweetheart. I've never been that scared in my life."
I was able to breathe again without pain and I had to fix this. This wasn't Green's fault. I didn't know he wasn't going to be able to stop. I thought he would stop from hitting Krit if I was in front of him. "He was gonna hit you," I said, wincing from the pain in my throat.
Krit went still a minute, and then his hold on me tightened. — Abbi Glines

Deadworld? Is that where you're from?" "No, dude. That's where you're from. It's where we are now. This place, it's a horror show. If the guy next to you decides to knock you out of this world forever, he can do it with just a piece of metal or, hell, even his bare hand. You blobs, you sit there, chillin' in this room and I can smell the rot of dead animals soaking in the acid of your guts. You suck the life from the innocent creatures of this world just so you can clock another day. You're machines that run on the terror and pain and mutilation of other lives. You'll scrape the world clean of every green and living thing until starvation goes one-eight-seven on every one of your sorry asses, your desperation to put off death leadin' to the ultimate death of everybody and everything. Dude, I can't believe you ain't all paralyzed by the pure, naked horror of this place. — David Wong

-Little brothers can be such a pain.
-Oh, really? Did you forget I have two older brothers?
-Sorry 'bout that.
-For what? Dissing little brothers?
-No, that you're probably a pain. — Karen DelleCava

You are your own worst enemy, young lady. And you are a coward. It is senseless to mistake fear for bravery." Her warm breath is yeasty on my face. "I feel sorry for you. But that's it. We are done trying to help you. It's your life, as your poor father said." AFTER THIS, WHEN I wake in the morning, I spread my fingers, working out the stiffness that creeps in overnight. I point my toes, feeling the crimp in my ankles, my calves, the dull sore ache behind my knees. The pain in my joints is like a needy pet that won't leave me alone. But I can't complain. I've forfeited that right. — Christina Baker Kline

Well?"
"Well, what?" I waved a hand at the room.
"Start genuflecting. Let's see some knee action."
"You're serious." I lifted my brows.
He responded in kind, but finally nodded his head, then walked between the couches. He dropped to one knee, then held out his hands.
"I'm monumentally sorry for the pain and humiliation that I caused you and your - "
"Both knees."
"Pardon?"
"I'd prefer to see both knees on the ground. I mean, if you're going to grovel, be the best groveler you can, right? — Chloe Neill

I'm sorry about that. I'm sure you didn't miss me like I missed you, but sometimes the things that matter to you most are also the things that hurt you the most. And in order to get over that hurt, you have to sever all the extensions that keep you tethered to that pain. You were an extension of my pain, so I guess that's what I was doing. I was just trying to save myself a little bit of agony. — Colleen Hoover

A child who's been injured by a parent waits her whole life for some acknowledgment of the wrong that's been done, some validation from him that her pain is real, that he's sorry and will make amends. The child will wait forever, unable to move forward, unable to forgive, without someone to acknowledge the past. In that powerlessness comes a terrible rage. — Lisa Unger

Sorry' is, indeed, one of the most difficult and most powerful words in the English language, provided one can feel and say it at the same time. It's difficult because you sincerely need to feel the pain of the other person and rise above your ego to say it; it's powerful because you overwhelm the other with the opposite reaction of what they were expecting. — Uday Mukerji

Look, it's a monster. He's walking alone. Look, he's pulling something out of his pocket. He threw it on the ground. Let's go see what it is. It's a black box. You open it ... ok ... Look, it's sorrow, misery and pain. It's loneliness and longing. Boy, he'll be sorry he lost these. — Henry Rollins

Frank, how did you do that?" Jason yelled.
Frank's head swam with pain. He forced himself not to pass out. "I'm the ranking Roman officer," he said. "They- uh, they don't recognize you. Sorry."
Jason grimaced, but he didn't look particularly surprised. "How can we help? — Rick Riordan

I always thought I wasn't afraid to die. No... No one is afraid of death itself. Your pain and suffering is over in an instant. What really makes me suffer... Is seeing you crying over me... From the darkness of the Milky Way.

I'm sorry... Please don't make that face. You look best when you're smiling, you know. — Inio Asano

I had believed myself superior to my ancestors. But all it took was the proper amount of pain for me to return to the traditions of old. For even thinking such a thing, I am sorry. I apologize to you as a Wakandian, as a human being, and I apologize to my nation. — Ta-Nehisi Coates

Gabriel nodded. "Sometimes love makes hard decisions for the sake of what needs protecting." "But love should fight." He nodded slowly. "Yes, love should fight. But there is a difference between a valiant fight and a selfish fight. And love is not selfish." She turned to look at him across the grass. "For someone who is cursed to be without love you are quite wise on matters of the heart." Sorrow filled her eyes. "I'm sorry for your curse." He shrugged. "It could be worse. I could be cursed to an eternity of pain or a life without chocolate. — Chelsea Fine

He squeezed me hard and kissed my cheek. "I love you, Jordy."
I'd told Owen that I loved him before, but at that moment, I couldn't say it. Because what I meant by it and what he meant by it were two different things. And right now the gulf between them was so big and so awful that I couldn't stand it.
The reality sank in. I would never have Owen like that again. An intense, burning pain spread through my chest. It was so strong it took my breath away.
"It hurts," I whispered.
"I'm sorry, Jordan," He hugged me tighter. I could feel his tears on my cheek, but I had none of my own to give. — Eli Easton

I'll understand if you don't want me. But I will be heartbroken. You are all I ever dreamed of and hoped for. You are much, much more. Please know that I didn't think I was mean-minded. But I realize I am. I don't want you to put your arms around me and say it's all right, that you forgive me. I want you to be sure that you do, and my love for you will last as long as I live. I can see no lightness, no humour, no joke to make. I just hope that we will be able to go back to when we had laughter, and the world was coloured, not black and white and grey. I am so sorry for hurting you. I could inflict all kinds of pain on myself, but it would not take back any I gave to you. - David Power — Maeve Binchy

I'd have avoided some of the pain if I could. Anyone would. But I wouldn't have missed knowing any of the people-even the ones whose leaving hurt most. In fact, the only thing I'm sorry about is that I didn't meet one particular guy, a clown named Joe Skelton. You know, he sure picked the right profession. I mean, a clown's got it all. He never has to hold back: He can do as he pleases. The mouth and the eyes are painted on. So if you wanta cry, you can go right ahead. The make up won't smear. You'll still be smiling ... — Red Skelton

Abruptly. "That's the way it always is. People hurt you and walk all over you. They lie to you and betray you, and then with those two little words, they expect it should all somehow be wiped from the slate. As if I'm sorry had some sort of magical powers to take away the pain." ... I know your faith says you're supposed to forgive people when they ask for it, but I think that's malarkey. Why give absolution to someone when they're only seeking forgiveness to ease their own conscience ? They don't care that what they've done has permanently scarred you. They don't care that they've robbed you of all security." ... When pressed for a reason for their actions or when facing the consequences, people are suddenly ever so sorry and apologetic ." She looked at Jana, but Jana was sure she didn't see her. Her mother was a million miles away. "Consequences don't just go away. They aren't suddenly dissolved just because forgiveness has been desired or given. — Tracie Peterson

I remember a scared, young girl hiding in the guise of arrogance and rebellion. I remember feeling lost in a world where everyone else seemed to have it all figured out. I remember the tears of pain, the rants of anger and the hell that seemed to have swallowed me whole. Although I remember these things, it is now, over a decade later, more like a story that I find hard to believe. Did it all really happen? Even as I write this, my eyes begin to swell. It really did happen. I was that girl. And I'm sorry she had to suffer so. But, that is over now... — Karen Michelle Miller

I remembered a line I read in the Dalai Lama's book A Profound Mind. "It is important that we understand just how truly all-pervasive suffering is." I remembered the Dalai Lama saying it is easy to feel sorry for an elderly beggar, but it is much harder to feel sorry for a young rich man. He also said that all "conditioned existence is characterized by pain." And that all types of people are "enslaved" by "strong destructive emotions. — Matthew Quick

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

I think everyone holds back. I am always censoring myself and I'm sorry about it. But I always have to consider whether my remarks might cause someone pain. — John Hall

And you're everything I don't want." Julie pushed away, breaking his embrace, and shook her head. "If you loved me, you couldn't have done this. You couldn't have been so careless with me. You know pain, and loss, and hurt better than anyone." She hated each word as it came out of her mouth. "And that's what you gave me. I know that it's not the same. I know yours is worse. I'm so sorry for you, Matt. For your whole family. You've all been through hell. And you've been braver than anyone could. But I hurt now, too. And I can't love you. — Jessica Park

Forgot about this," he muttered into my hair. "Sorry?" "Forgot," he repeated. "Forgot?" "Forgot about carin' about someone so much you would do everything in your power to stop them havin' pain. — Kristen Ashley