You Should Have Said Sorry Quotes & Sayings

Sometimes I think this job is going to kill me," Abby said. "Seeing what people have done, what people continue to do, to my Foxes. I wish I could protect you, but I'm always too late. All I can do is patch you up afterward and hope for the best. I'm sorry, Neil. We should have been there for you. — Nora Sakavic

I've been thinking about it, and I still don't understand exactly why what I said hurt you so much. But I don't need to. It hurt you, and when you told me it hurt you I should have apologized and stopped saying whatever it was. And maybe spent some time trying to understand. Instead of insisting that you manage your feelings to suit me. And I want to say I'm sorry. And I actually mean it this time. — Ann Leckie

Sorry," said Mik. "I think you neutralized our capacity for surprise. You should have started with that, and *then* told us you raise the dead. — Laini Taylor

This time, after a moment, he called her bluff.

"Perhaps Philippa and I should be thrown together a little more. She might become attached to me if she knew me better." Kate, brightening visibly, ignored the gleam in his eye.

"That would make her sorry for you?"

"It might. The object of any sort of clinical study deserves compassion, don't you think?"

"Snakes don't," said Katherine inconsequently. "I hate snakes."

"And yet you feed them on honey cakes and forbid them to defend themselves."

"Defencelessness is not a noted characteristic of serpents. Anyhow, I can't have them lying rattling about the house. It gets on the nerves."

"It does if you handle it by rattling back. — Dorothy Dunnett

Being as I am both a woman and working-class, choice don't come into it, much, for me. I do what I must." Charles/Karl wanted to say he was sorry, and couldn't.
"I imagine you don't talk to many of us, as against studying us in bulk. The dangerous masses. To be put in camps, and set to work on projects."
"You are being unfair," said Charles/Karl. "You are mocking me."
"We can do that, at least, if we dare."
"Miss Warren," said Charles/Karl, "I wish you would not talk as though you were a group, or a class, or a committee. I should like to be talking to you as a person."
"Can you?"
"Why should I not?"
"For every reason. I am both working-class and not respectable. I am a Fallen Woman. I have a daughter. You don't want to be talking to me as if I were a person, Mr. Wellwood. — A.S. Byatt

Serenity, we did not mean to offend you. We thought only to help."

Maia set his cup down too hard, slopping tea into the saucer, his entire body hot with shame. "We apologize," he said. "We spoke ungraciously and out of ill temper which we should not have inflicted on you. We should not have disparaged your service, for which we are so truly grateful. We are sorry."

"Serenity," Csevet said uncomfortably, "you should not speak so to us." "

Why not?"

Csevet opened his mouth and closed it again. Then, deliberately, he set down his cup, stood up, and with infinite grace prostrated himself beside the table. Isheian watched him with alarm. Csevet stood up again, unruffled and perfect, and said, "The Emperor of the Elflands does not apologize to his secretary. And yet, we thank you for doing that which the emperor does not." He smiled, a warm beautiful smile that made his face suddenly, momentarily alive, and sat down again. "Serenity. — Katherine Addison

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

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

What happened?" she breathed, staring at me.
"I got hit in the face with a pie," I said.
Mags stopped, blinking. "You got ... hit in the face with a pie," she repeated. "I ... what? I'm sorry, but I've been in charge of this Library for a long time. I've seen a lot of really ridiculous things. I lived in Wales. And there is no way being hit with a pie should have turned you human."
"It was a really evil pie," I said. — Seanan McGuire

You're right, Ruth. You did screw up my career. You screwed it up good. Best thing you ever did, matter of fact. But you know something? It's okay. Because if it was between the church and you, there was no contest. Even with al the ups and downs and the craziness and the shit and the maxed-out credit cards, the church never stood a chance. I chose you, Ruth. And I'm glad. There. That's what my so-called career was about. And that's what I should have said to you. And I'm sorry I didn't. I'm sorry, Ruth. I'm sorry. — K. D. Miller

The leech didn't stay long. Only long enough to check his bandages and proclaim this the most miraculous recovery he'd ever witnessed.
"I'll let the others know," Phantom said.
Adara nodded as she returned to sit on the edge of Christian's bed. He had yet to speak with words. But his loving gaze told her volumes. "Welcome back to the world of the living, Christian."
He swallowed, then coughed.
"Easy," she said, afraid he might tear the stitches in his chest.
"I'm sorry, Adara," he said, his voice raspy and strained. His words baffled her.
"Sorry for what?"
"That I disappointed you."
Her tears started anew. "You are never a disappointment to me, Christian. Never ... unless you die on me. That would make me dreadfully disappointed, and then I should have to kill you for it."
The corners of his lips lifted a tiny bit. — Kinley MacGregor

Do you know how I feel about that? I'm sure this is no big surprise ... what a mistake. I should never have voted for that, but I accepted what [former Secretary of State] Colin Powell and the others said. But it took me just a matter of a few months to realize it was a bad mistake, and my record speaks for itself. I've spoken out against what was going on, not once, not twice, but lots of times. And I'm sorry that I was misled, but I was, and it was a mistake for me to vote for that war. — Harry Reid

Shit," he said. "I don't know why you're feeling sorry for yourself because you ain't had to fight a war. You're lucky. Shit, all you had was that damn Desert Storm. Should have called it Dessert Storm because it just made the fat cats get fatter. It was all sugar and whipped cream with a cherry on top. And besides that, you didn't even have to fight in it. All you lost during that was was sleep because you stayed up all night watching CNN. — Sherman Alexie

A man with dry, graying skin and a mop of white hair came in with a plastic tray of herbal potions for sale. "No, no, no," Aisha said to him, palm raised as though to ward him off. The man retreated. Ifemelu felt sorry for him, hungry-looking in his worn dashiki, and wondered how much he could possibly make from his sales. She should have bought something. "You talk Igbo to Chijioke. He listen to you," Aisha said. "You talk Igbo?" "Of course I speak Igbo," Ifemelu said, defensive, wondering if Aisha was again suggesting that America had changed her. "Take it easy!" she added, because Aisha had pulled a tiny-toothed comb through a section of her hair. "Your hair hard," Aisha said. — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

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

I'm sorry that I couldn't bring my extensive mask collection to London in my trunk. I had to make do. And you said nothing about my dress."

"That should have been self-evident. Instead of blending in, you will be the center of attention."

"Well, it can't be changed now. Do you want to pull out your copy of She Walks in Beauty and spend the next hour acting moody? — Tarun Shanker

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

When Jack came in he found him sitting before a tray of bird's skins and labels. Stephen looked up, and after a moment said, 'To a tormented mind there is nothing, I believe, more irritating than comfort. Apart from anything else it often implies superior wisdom in the comforter. But I am very sorry for your trouble, my dear.'
'Thank you, Stephen. Had you told me that there was always a tomorrow, I think I should have thrust your calendar down your throat. — Patrick O'Brian

We didn't know it then,' Hooper said. 'We used to talk about how when we got back in the world we were going to do this and we were going to do that. Back in the world we were going to have it made. But ever since then it's been nothing but confusion.' Hooper took the cigarette case from his pocket but didn't open it. He leaned forward on the table.
'Everything was clear,' he said. 'You learned what you had to know and you forgot the rest. All this chickenshit. This clutter. You didn't spend every living minute of the day thinking about your own sorry-ass little self. Am I getting laid enough. What's wrong with my kid. Should I insulate the fucking house. That's what does it to you, Porchoff. Thinking about yourself. That's what kills you in the end. — Tobias Wolff

With a regrettable sigh he shook his head.
"I'm sorry, but this isn't going to work out."
"What the hell are you doing, Trevor?" Hank
demanded anxiously. No doubt the man
wouldn't be getting laid tonight, but Trevor
couldn't help it. He had his standards and
this woman failed them.
"Maybe we could go grab a cup of coffee
somewhere and get to know-"
He held up his hand, stopping her before she
made an even bigger fool out of herself.
"Please stop."
"But, I was only-"
"Don't beg."
"I wasn't. I was just-"
"Begging?" Trevor guessed, sighing. "I know,
but you're going to have to accept that this
would never work out."
She frowned up at him. "I wasn't begging. I
was just going to suggest that we should-"
"Look," he said, reaching for the door, "this
s just getting sad. I'm just going to go before
things get out of hand. — R.L. Mathewson

Orpheus never liked words. He had his music. He would get a funny look on his face and I would say what are you thinking about and he would always be thinking about music.
If we were in a restaurant sometimes Orpheus would look sullen and wouldn't talk to me and I thought people felt sorry for me. I should have realized that women envied me. Their husbands talked too much.
But I wanted to talk to him about my notions. I was working on a new philosophical system. It involved hats.
This is what it is to love an artist: The moon is always rising above your house. The houses of your neighbors look dull and lacking in moonlight. But he is always going away from you. Inside his head there is always something more beautiful.
Orpheus said the mind is a slide ruler. It can fit around anything. Show me your body, he said. It only means one thing. — Sarah Ruhl

Cricket could tell Enkai was holding back tears, and wishing to comfort him, she took his hand. They sat in silence for a long time, just holding hands, and when Cricket heard Enkai sniff, she knew he was crying.
"You should go. You shouldn't see me . . ."
"What?" said Cricket at once. "Be a person? Have feelings? Here . . ." She took a washcloth from the nightstand and dabbed his tears away. "I cried when I lost my friends. One of them died to get me here too."
"I'm sorry," Enkai said, blinking sympathetically as Cricket wiped his face.
Cricket smiled. "No, it's alright. I still see her sometimes." She dropped her eyes to the washcloth as she contently folded it and set it aside.
Enkai frowned. "You're weird, Cricket," he said with a laugh, and Cricket laughed as well. "But . . ." he added, "I guess that's why I like you. — Ash Gray

I very sorry now, Missy Edith - but cat bite me," said Pablo. "Well, if pussy did, it didn't hurt you much; and what did I tell you this morning out of the Bible? - that you must forgive them who behave ill to you." "Yes, Missy Edith, you tell me all that, and so I do; I forgive pussy 'cause she bite me, but I kick her for it." "That's not forgiveness, is it, Edward? You should have forgiven it at once, and not kicked it at all." "Miss Edith, when pussy bite me, pussy hurt me, make me angry, and I give her a kick; then I think what you tell me, and I do as you tell me. I forgive pussy with all my heart. — Frederick Marryat

"I am so sorry, Joe," he whispered, gently pushing her hair away from her face and neck. "I know I keep fucking up," he said, pressing a kiss to her neck, "and that by all rights you should bitch slap me, but I can't stand the idea of you getting hurt."
His hand found its way to her panty clad hip and gave her a gentle squeeze. "It kills me to think of what could have happened that night, Joe," he explained softly as he pressed another kiss to her neck. "Do you have any idea how lost I would be without you?"
"You're my entire world, Joe," he said, pressing another kiss to her neck, this time lingering. "I don't know what I'd do without," he said against her skin. — R.L. Mathewson

Ideally, what should be said to every child, repeatedly, throughout his or her school life is something like this: 'You are in the process of being indoctrinated. We have not yet evolved a system of education that is not a system of indoctrination. We are sorry, but it is the best we can do. What you are being taught here is an amalgam of current prejudice and the choices of this particular culture. The slightest look at history will show how impermanent these must be. You are being taught by people who have been able to accommodate themselves to a regime of thought laid down by their predecessors. It is a self-perpetuating system. Those of you who are more robust and individual than others will be encouraged to leave and find ways of educating yourself - educating your own judgements. Those that stay must remember, always, and all the time, that they are being moulded and patterned to fit into the narrow and particular needs of this particular society. — Doris Lessing

I came home one day from school after being chased by kids singing "Yellow Submarine", and I didn't understand why. It just seemed surreal: why are they singing that song to me? I came home and I freaked out on my dad: 'Why didn't you tell me you were in The Beatles?' And he said, 'Oh, sorry. Probably should have told you that.' — Dhani Harrison

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

Why do you call this dog Mohammed?" asked the bearded man. "Because that's his name." "You should not have called this dog Mohammed." "I didn't call the dog Mohammed," Charlie said. "His name was Mohammed when I got him. It was on his collar." "It is blasphemy to call a dog Mohammed." "I tried calling him something else, but he doesn't listen. Watch. Steve, bite this man's leg? See, nothing. Spot, bite off this man's leg. Nothing. I might as well be speaking Farsi. You see where I'm going with this?" "Well, I have named my dog Jesus. How do you feel about that?" "Well, then I'm sorry, I didn't realize you'd lost your dog." "I have not lost my dog." "Really? I saw these flyers all over town with 'Have You Found Jesus?' on them. It must be another dog named Jesus. Was there a reward? A reward helps, you know." Charlie — Christopher Moore

Maximilien,' the count said, 'the friends whom we have lost do not rest in the earth, they are buried in our hearts, and that is how God wanted it, so that we should always be in their company. I have two friends who are always with me, in that way: one is the man who gave me life, the other is the one who gave me understanding. The spirit of both lives in me. I consult them when I am in doubt and, if I have done any good, I owe it to their advice. Look into your heart, Morrel, and ask it if you should continue to show me that sorry face. — Alexandre Dumas

She got up and went to her tiny kitchen. On the way she turned on her radio. "You want something to eat?" she called over her shoulder.
"What do you have?"
"Um ... " She opened her refrigerator. "Milk, yogurt, and wilted lettuce." She checked her cupboard. "Cheerios. Instant grits. Sorry
I figured that since this is technically the South, I should try grits. Ah-hah! Pop-Tarts."
"Pop-Tarts! All right," he said enthusiastically. He came to join her as she loaded the toaster. "Life. It just doesn't get any better than this. You and Pop-Tarts. — Katherine Applegate

It is a long way to Ireland, Janet, and I am sorry to send my little friend on such weary travels: but if I can't do better, how is it to be helped? Are you anything akin to me, do you think, Jane?"
I could risk no sort of answer by this time: my heart was still.
"Because, he said, "I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you - especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous channel, and two hundred miles or so of land some broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, - you'd forget me. — Charlotte Bronte

My parents died a long time ago. And you know the sad thing? I still miss them every day. I spent my entire youth fighting with my dad over every little thing and damned if I wouldn't sell my soul to see him one more time and tell him I was sorry for the last words I said to him. Words I can never take back that should have never been said. So call your mom. No matter what kind of relationship you have with your parents, I swear to you, you'll miss them when they're gone. (Kyrian) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Oh, no. That's just a name. Oswald isn't a man, he's an ondageist. Have you heard of poltergeists?" "Er ... invisible spirits that throw things around?" "Good," said Miss Level. "Well, an ondageist is the opposite. They're obsessive about tidiness. He's quite handy around the house, but he's absolutely dreadful if he's in the kitchen when I'm cooking. He keeps putting things away. I think it makes him happy. Sorry, I should have warned you, but he normally hides if anyone comes to the cottage. He's shy." "And — Terry Pratchett

... I'm sorry, and a little dissatisfied as well. Miss Stacy told me long ago that by the time I was twenty my character would be formed, for good or evil. I don't feel that it's what it should be. It's full of flaws.' 'So's everybody's,' said Aunt Jamesina cheerfully. 'Mine's cracked in a hundred places. Your Miss Stacy likely meant that when you are twenty your character would have got its permanent bent in one direction or 'tother, and would go on developing in that line. — L.M. Montgomery

I am growing quite fond of him," she said to Ermengarde; "I should not like him to be disturbed. I have adopted him for a friend. You can do that with people you never speak to at all. You can just watch them, and think about them and be sorry for them, until they seem almost like relations. I'm quite anxious sometimes when I see the doctor call twice a day. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

You should have called us. Desmond would have picked you up.'
'No I wouldn't,' Valkyrie's dad said, stepping into earshot. 'Sorry, Fletcher, but I had important fatherly duties to take care of, which included eating breakfast, showering, and finding my trousers. Of those three, I only managed two. Without looking down, can you guess which one I missed?' ... Fletcher smiled back. 'I just want to borrow Stephanie for a moment.'
'Take our daughter,' Valkryie's dad said, waving a hand airily. 'We have another one now. — Derek Landy

I never should have come back to Jupiter Point. I've ruined everything for Evie."

"That's not true," Suzanne said impatiently. "My cousin's a lot happier since you got here. Regular sex will do that for you."

Josh snorted coffee though his nose, then clapped a hand to his face with a moan of agony. "You should really warn a guy before tossing the word'sex' out there."

"Sorry, big guy. I'll be more careful with your delicate sensibilities from now on," Suzanne teased. — Jennifer Bernard

During the 1919 solar eclipse, people go out to measure the positions of the stars and they find exactly what Einstein predicted. Einstein gets a telegram saying this, and somebody asked him, Professor Einstein, what would you have said if the observations didn't agree with what your prediction of general relativity said should be happening? And Einstein said, "I'd be sorry for the dear lord; the theory is correct." What he meant by that is the math is just so elegant, so beautiful, so powerful, that almost seemingly it can't possibly be wrong. — Rivka Galchen