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Quote by Connor Franta

“I refuse to live a life of regret. I refuse to hope things will get better in the future when I have complete control over making them the best possible right here and now. We have one life-and none of us knows how long our life will be or what will becomme of it. The possibilities are truly infinite.”

Book:A Work in Progress

Work

A Work in Progress

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Author

Connor Franta

Connor Franta is a well-known social media influencer, artist, and writer. Known for his authentic and candid sharing, his art has garnered widespread attention. Details about his life and achievements are limited at this time. more

“In any weather, at any hour of the day or night, I have been anxious to improve the nick of time, and notch it on my stick too; to stand on the meeting of two eternities, the past and the future, which is precisely the present moment; to toe that line. You will pardon some obscurities, for there are more secrets in my trade than in most men's, and yet not voluntarily kept, but inseparable from its very nature.”

Regret Anxiety Living In The Present

Book:Walden or, Life in the Woods

Source: Walden or, Life in the Woods

“Regret and remorse represent a constant tension in our inner architecture and an ongoing interaction between self-knowledge and moral growth. ("Island of regret.- Island of remorse.")”

Regret Interaction Self Knowledge Remorse Moral Growth Inner Architecture

Author:Erik Pevernagie

“...tout compte fait, je crois que mon tort était de ne pas avoir eu le courage de mes convictions. Je pouvais me trouver toutes les excuses du monde, aucune d'elles ne me donnerait raison. En réalité maintenant que j'avais perdu la face , je me cherchais un masque. Pareil à un défiguré, je me cachais derrière mes pansements qui me servaient aussi de moucharabiehs. Je regardais en cachette la vérité des autres, en abusais pour distancer la mienne”

Regret

Book:Ce que le jour doit à la nuit

Source: Ce que le jour doit à la nuit

“And, for one– ten thousandth of a second, all of it fell away, the despair and grief and anger and pain and hunger, and the old Ben Parish rose from the dead. The eyes that impaled. The smile that slayed. In another moment, he would fade, slide back into the new Ben, the one called Zombie, and I understood something I hadn’t before: He was dead, the object of my schoolgirl desires, just as the schoolgirl who desired him was dead.”