There is no past that we can bring back to us by the longing for it.
One thing alone not even God can do,To make undone whatever hath been done.
I don't think you can ever fill the empty space with the thing you lost.
I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken - and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.
Neither can the wave that has passed by be recalled, nor the hour which has passed return again.
You can’t undo something that’s happened; you can’t take back a word that’s already been said out loud.
Nothing is more useless than complaining over errors that can no longer be rectified, nothing more vain than regret.
You can never go back to a time and try to recreate that sound, because that time is done.
Every once in a while, you let a word or phrase out and you want to catch it and bring it back. You can't do that. It's gone, gone forever.
We're constantly losing - we're losing time, we're losing ourselves. I don't feel for the things I lost.
'Survivor' was not fixed. There's no way to fix 'Survivor.'
People look to you to replace a part in their lives that they can't get back. You can't get the past back, you can't do it. We've all tried.
There is no fence nor hedge round time that is gone. You can go back and have what you like of it if you can remember.
What has been cut apart cannot be glued back together. Abandon all hope of totality, future as well as past, you who enter the world of fluid modernity.
There are no furloughs for victims. There is no return from the grave.
What you had could never make up for what you'd lost.
I was broken beyond repair.
If you want to know how far gossip travels, do this - take a feather pillow up on a roof, slice it open, and let the feathers fly away on the wind. Then go and find every single feather and re-stuff the pillow.
Lost - yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered, for they are gone forever.
Failures to love are irremediable and irredeemable.
When the honey's out of the comb, there's no putting it back.
It's unfortunate nine years were in between - you can't take that time back; you can't undo it.
