We have an obligation to feel guilty.” The words came out of her lips as if she were reciting an elegy. “Guilty. Because we kill the ones we love.
The thoroughly guilty man has an advantage over all of us; he cannot be found more guilty of anything, since he has already found himself guilty of everything. This may sound like an absurdity – causing oneself extreme pain in order not to feel any number of little pains of lesser guilts and shames, but it has its own logic. A man more easily adapts to what he inflicts upon himself; as to his own judgement, he is already committed to it and willing to live with it.
You invoke a new future
when you envision your past
in the light of your present.
I always ended up doing things I didn’t want to do today just so I didn’t regret not doing them tomorrow.
12 Things To Ditch For A Great Day
Fear of embarrassment
Urge to one-up others
Your comfort zone
It happened. It was awful. You aren’t perfect. That’s all there is. Don’t confuse your grief with guilt.”
We stay in the silence and the loneliness of the otherwise empty dormitory for a few more minutes, and I try to let her words work themselves into me.
For the good that I would: I do not, but the evil which I would not, I do.
If you survive, you’ve got to live with the guilt, and that’s more difficult than looking someone in the eye and pulling the trigger. Trust me. I’ve done both.
Since her retirement from teaching Miss Beryl’s health had in many respects greatly improved, despite her advancing years. An eighth-grade classroom was an excellent place to snag whatever was in the air in the way of illness. Also depression, which, Miss Beryl believed, in conjunction with guilt, opened the door to illness. Miss Beryl didn’t know any teachers who weren’t habitually guilty and depressed–guilty they hadn’t accomplished more with their students, depressed that very little more was possible.
The most common lie uttered without thought, sincerity, resolve, or guilt: I love you.