Sincerely Apologize Quotes

I sincerely apologize for copying your wife without her knowledge or permission.

Sincere forgiveness isn't colored with expectations that the other person apologize or change. Don't worry whether or not they finally understand you. Love them and release them. Life feeds back truth to people in its own way and time.

Shower first. Epic b****-out session second, sincere apology third, and then sleep.

Never believe you're so great or important, so right or proud, that you cannot kneel at the feet of someone you hurt and offer a humble, sincere apology.

Suicide is the utmost sincere and candid apology to the ones you hurt most

It's awkward and silent as I wait for you to say, what I need to hear now, your sincere apology. When you mean it, I'll believe it, if you text it I'll delete, let's be clear. Oh, I'm not coming back, you're taking 7 steps here...

'I'm sorry' won't fix what's been broken.  It can't reverse time or undo the damage or change anything that happened.  But a sincere, humble apology can serve to soften the sting and sometimes do a pretty good patch up job.

A sincere and warmly-expressed apology can produce the same effects as morphine on a suffering soul.

I think the world honestly would be a much healthier place if instead of trying to find rationalizations for our bad behavior we would just say, "I was an asshole. Sure, there were reasons behind it, but that doesn't matter.

...apologizing once, sincerely, shows that you mean it. Apologizing over and over just makes your feelings the other person's problem.

Never regret anything. (If that turns out to be bad advice, I sincerely apologize.)

An apology is a statement that sincerely expresses your sorrow for your role in causing—or at least not preventing—pain or difficulty to others.

Isis, I am not one to act out with such posture. Please accept my sincere apology, as I have nothing else to offer.

I realize now that the damage is done, that no matter the grand gestures and sincere apologies, sometimes you hurt people too much and push them too far. There’s a limit to what you can ask someone to endure for your bullshit.

A sincere, satisfying grovel is a talent most men never really master. You could do a lot worse than wedding a man who knows how to apologize well.

The art of a sincere and heartfelt apology is one of the greatest skills you will ever learn.

A sincere apology is analogous to authentic repentance". ~R. Alan Woods [2013]

If sincere, an apology is strong enough to uproot anger, bitterness, and grudges instantly. Its benefits are unlimited since they tend to set everyone free!

In a bravura demonstration of stonewalling, righteousness, and hurt sincerity, Steve Jobs successfully took to the stage the other day to deny the problem, dismiss the criticism, and spread the blame among other smartphone makers,” Michael Wolff of newser.com wrote. “This is a level of modern marketing, corporate spin, and crisis management about which you can only ask with stupefied incredulity and awe: How do they get away with it? Or, more accurately, how does he get away with it?” Wolff attributed it to Jobs’s mesmerizing effect as “the last charismatic individual.” Other CEOs would be offering abject apologies and swallowing massive recalls, but Jobs didn’t have to. “The grim, skeletal appearance, the absolutism, the ecclesiastical bearing, the sense of his relationship with the sacred, really works, and, in this instance, allows him the privilege of magisterially deciding what is meaningful and what is trivial.

The ability to apologize sincerely and express regret for the unskillful things we say or do is an art. A true apology can relieve a great deal of suffering in the other person.

Apologizing doesn’t mean that you’re wrong. It just means that you’re tired of arguing and are ready to move on. Just make sure that the other person thinks you’re sincere.

When a friendship crumbles, there are only really two things that can bring it back: a shitload of time, or a sincere apology.

from the Basement tapes Eric outdid Dylan with the apologies. To the untrained eye, he seemed sincere. The psychologists on the case found Eric less convincing. They saw a psychopath. Classic. He even pulled the stunt of self-diagnosing to dismiss it. "I wish I was a fucking sociopath so I didn't have any remorse," Eric said. "But I do." Watching that made Dr. Fuselier angry. Remorse meant a deep desire to correct a mistake. Eric hadn't done it yet. He excused his actions several times on the tapes. Fuselier was tough to rattle, but that got to him. "Those are the most worthless apologies I've ever heard in my life," he said. It got more ludicrous later, when Eric willed some of his stuff to two buddies, "if you guys live." "If you live?" Fuselier repeated. "They are going to go in there and quite possibly kill their friends. If they were the least bit sorry they would not do it!

The need for apologies and repair is a singularly human one---both on the giving and receiving ends. We are hardwired to seek justice and fairness (however we see it), so the need to receive a sincere apology that's due is deeply felt. We are also imperfect humans and prone to error and defensiveness, so the challenge of offering a heartfelt apology permeates almost every relationship.

NOT EVERYTHING IS FORGIVABLE Accepting an apology doesn’t always mean reconciliation. The best apology in the world can’t restore every connection. The words “I’m sorry” may be absurdly inadequate even if sincerely offered. Sometimes the foundation of trust on which a relationship was built cannot be repaired. We may never want to see the person who hurt us again. We can still accept the apology.

If there were past misdeeds, I do not believe we should nag or repeat them, never mind throw them in someone’s face. If they sincerely apologized and we genuinely forgave them, we must move on. Learn from mistakes, but move on. If we bring them up and toss them at the offender, we may not have actually forgiven them, even if we claim we have.

By the following morning, Anthony was drunk. By afternoon, he was hungover. His head was pounding, his ears were ringing, and his brothers, who had been surprised to discover him in such a state at their club, were talking far too loudly. Anthony put his hands over his ears and groaned.Everyone was talking far too loudly. “Kate boot you out of the house?” Colin asked, grabbing a walnut from a large pewter dish in the middle their table and splitting it open with a viciously loud crack. Anthony lifted his head just far enough to glare at him. Benedict watched his brother with raised brows and the vaguest hint of a smirk. “She definitely booted him out,” he said to Colin. “Hand me one of those walnuts, will you?” Colin tossed one across the table. “Do you want the crackers as well?” Benedict shook his head and grinned as he held up a fat, leather-bound book. “Much more satisfying to smash them.” “Don’t,” Anthony bit out, his hand shooting out to grab the book, “even think about it.” “Ears a bit sensitive this afternoon, are they?” If Anthony had had a pistol, he would have shot them both, hang the noise. “If I might offer you a piece of advice?” Colin said, munching on his walnut. “You might not,” Anthony replied. He looked up. Colin was chewing with his mouth open. As this had been strictly forbidden while growing up in their household, Anthony could only deduce that Colin was displaying such poor manners only to make more noise. “Close your damned mouth,” he muttered. Colin swallowed, smacked his lips, and took a sip of his tea to wash it all down. “Whatever you did, apologize for it. I know you, and I’m getting to know Kate, and knowing what I know—” “What the hell is he talking about?” Anthony grumbled. “I think,” Benedict said, leaning back in his chair, “that he’s telling you you’re an ass.” “Just so!” Colin exclaimed. Anthony just shook his head wearily. “It’s more complicated than you think.” “It always is,” Benedict said, with sincerity so false it almost managed to sound sincere. “When you two idiots find women gullible enough to actually marry you,” Anthony snapped, “then you may presume to offer me advice. But until then ...shut up.” Colin looked at Benedict. “Think he’s angry?” Benedict quirked a brow. “That or drunk.” Colin shook his head. “No, not drunk. Not anymore, at least. He’s clearly hungover.” “Which would explain,” Benedict said with a philosophical nod, “why he’s so angry.” Anthony spread one hand over his face and pressed hard against his temples with his thumb and middle finger. “God above,” he muttered. ‘‘What would it take to get you two to leave me alone?” “Go home, Anthony,” Benedict said, his voice surprisingly gentle.

Remember that a sincere apology never diminishes the apologizer.

After procuring several fervent assurances that his wife would apologize sincerely and deeply for his absence from Rosings that evening, Mr Collins reluctantly died.

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.

A genuine apology focuses on the feelings of the other rather than on how the one who is apologizing is going to benefit in the end. It seeks to acknowledge full responsibility for an act, and does not use self-serving language to justify the behavior of the person asking forgiveness. A sincere apology does not seek to erase what was done. No amount of words can undo past wrongs. Nothing can ever reverse injustices committed against others. But an apology pronounced in the context of horrible acts has the potential for transformation. It clears or ‘settles’ the air in order to begin reconstructing the broken connections between two human beings.

When it was all done and said and shot and ignited and vaporized and swept up and put away and both sincerely and insincerely apologized for, everyone left standing knew that the galaxy could not bear a second go at this sort of thing. Something had to be done. Something mad and real and bright.

I have made many mistakes and no doubt will make more before I die. When I have seen pain, when I have found that my ineptness has caused displeasure, I have learned to accept my responsibility and to forgive myself first, then to apologize to anyone injured by my misreckoning. Since I cannot in-live history, and repentance is all I can offer God, I have hopes that my sincere apologies were accepted.

So, how do we take responsibility? You can apologize—and even if you cannot remember committing your transgression, that doesn’t mean that your apology, and the sentiment behind your apology, is not sincere.” “But I want to feel it. I want to feel . . . worse.” It’s an odd thing to say, but I think this all the time. I don’t feel bad enough. I know what I’m responsible for, I know all the terrible things I’ve done, even if I don’t remember the details—but I feel distanced from those actions. I feel them at one remove.

Apologies are a dime a dozen. I don't need an apology. What I need is sincerity.

Rhett Rabideaux may not be prince charming but he’s something else entirely: he’s real. He is who he is, and makes no apologies. He’s polite and sincere.

Sincere apologies make deposits; repeated apologies interpreted as insincere make withdrawals. And the quality of the relationship reflects it.

Shower first. Epic bitch-out session second, sincere apology third, and then sleep.

Don't just ask for an apology. Apologize by pointing out what you are really sorry for. Hence, do it specifically and sincerely.

All I can do is sincerely apologize and make this clear: I am not a psychic. I am a bereaved retired actuary who suffered a mental health crisis on a flight.

Moving on didn’t always involve big gestures or heavy talks. Sometimes, the most meaningful moments were the small ones – a softening glance here, a simple but sincere apology there.

One does not need to apologize for you to forgive them...but a sincere, reverent and “as loud as the disrespect” apology may repair trust faster. Remember that when you apologize yourself.

He’s a real fucking dog. Ah, forgive me. I’ve accidentally lumped dogs in with the likes of him. I would like to give a sincere apology to all the dogs of Earth. I can almost hear their complaints now. Bow wow! Woof woof! Bark as much as you like. Fight back against the humans who have used your good name as a curse.

If you have sincerely apologized, if you have sincerely worked to change and continue to do so but the person you hurt continues to hold your action over your head years later—that’s not forgiveness, that’s manipulation.

Don’t ever apologize for being you, Andie.” She opened her eyes and turned to him. He was looking at her, and there was such conviction and sincerity in his expression that Andie felt like she was going to break under the weight of it.

But, I fear I spend far too little time apologising for or feeling ashamed about things which really do merit sincere apology and outright contrition. • Failing to imagine what it is like to be someone else. • Pissing my life away. • Dishonesty with self and others. • Neglecting to pick up the phone or write letters. • Not connecting made or processed objects • with their provenance. • Judging without facts. • Using influence over others for my own ends. • Causing pain.

I just don't care for apologies. They're never sincere. I can vouch for this since I have the urge at this very moment to apologize for being so rude. But honestly, my impulse to apologize is only because I feel uncomfortable with the guilt I feel and my stupid human brain associates an apology with mollifying my own discomfort. Apologies are just a reminder of how selfish people are.

Her name is Queen Theodosia, and if you won’t apologize for disrespecting her, I’ll let her men have you and I’ll describe your last moments to your wife so that she knows how pathetically you died.” Mattin grunts, eyes dropping away. “I apologize,” he says through gritted teeth. Søren looks tempted to extract something more sincere out of him, but that would hardly be productive. I clear my throat. “I accept your apology,” I say coldly. “I hope you come to see that a woman can wield power beyond what’s between her legs—for your daughter’s sake if nothing else.

Welcome the disagreement. Remember the slogan, ‘When two partners always agree, one of them is not necessary.’ If there is some point you haven’t thought about, be thankful if it is brought to your attention. Perhaps this disagreement is your opportunity to be corrected before you make a serious mistake. Distrust your first instinctive impression. Our first natural reaction in a disagreeable situation is to be defensive. Be careful. Keep calm and watch out for your first reaction. It may be you at your worst, not your best. Control your temper. Remember, you can measure the size of a person by what makes him or her angry. Listen first. Give your opponents a chance to talk. Let them finish. Do not resist, defend or debate. This only raises barriers. Try to build bridges of understanding. Don’t build higher barriers of misunderstanding. Look for areas of agreement. When you have heard your opponents out, dwell first on the points and areas on which you agree. Be honest. Look for areas where you can admit error and say so. Apologize for your mistakes. It will help disarm your opponents and reduce defensiveness. Promise to think over your opponents’ ideas and study them carefully. And mean it. Your opponents may be right. It is a lot easier at this stage to agree to think about their points than to move rapidly ahead and find yourself in a position where your opponents can say: ‘We tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.’ Thank your opponents sincerely for their interest. Anyone who takes the time to disagree with you is interested in the same things you are. Think of them as people who really want to help you, and you may turn your opponents into friends. Postpone action to give both sides time to think through the problem. Suggest that a new meeting be held later that day or the next day, when all the facts may be brought to bear. In preparation for this meeting, ask yourself some hard questions:

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.

Love is a bonfire. It’s every kind word. It’s every sincere apology. It’s every compromise.

For a long time I've wanted to apologize for my behavior that year, but I'm not sure how or even if it would be sincere. How does the man (woman) apologize for the boy (girl)? (132)

The following dynamics are typical of a relationship with Mr. Sensitive and may help explain your feeling that something has gone awry: You seem to be hurting his feelings constantly, though you aren't sure why, and he expects your attention to be focused endlessly on his emotional injuries. If you are in a bad mood one day and say something unfair or insensitive, it won't be enough for you to give him a sincere apology and accept responsibility. He'll go on and on about it, expecting you to grovel as if you had treated him with profound cruelty.

Meanwhile, whiteness twiddles its thumbs with feigned innocence and shallow apologies. Diversity gets treated like a passing trend, a friendly group project in which everyone takes on equal risks and rewards. In the mind of whiteness, half-baked efforts at diversity are enough, because the status quo is fine. It is better than slavery, better than Jim Crow. What more could Black people possibly ask than this - to not be overtly subject to the white will? "Is there more?" white innocence asks before bursting into tears at the possibility that we would date question its sincerity.

When Clark called in the afternoon, I told him I needed some time to myself. I sniffed my magic powders while he blubbered an apology that sounded like all his lame professions—foolishly sincere.

The difference is that the right one will outlast the days. The truths will stay as truth, the lies will come with sincere apologies and true repentance, and the fall will be one you won’t need to get up from.

What did you mean by that?" She looked up. "What?" "'Well, too bad for you.' That's what you said. What did you mean by that?" ... Her own apology was sincere; the work she has to do on herself is her own. When something wasn't going well, when there was conflict or someone was upset or being difficult, the more introverted me would flee and hope it all went away. The new me wades right into the deep end and asks, "what's wrong?

What if I make a mistake?' you may be thinking. 'Racism is a volatile issue, and I don't want to say or do the wrong thing.' In almost forty years of teaching and leading workshops about racism, I have made many mistakes. I have found that a sincere apology and a genuine desire to learn from one's mistakes is usually rewarded with forgiveness. If we wait for perfection, we will never break the silence. The cycle of racism will continue uninterrupted.

Maybe the God we see, the God who calls the daily shots, is merely a subGod. Maybe there’s a God above this subGod who’s busy for a few God minutes with something else, and will be right back; and when he gets back will take the subGod by the ear and say: Now look. Look at that fat man. What did he ever do to you? Wasn’t he humble enough? Didn’t he endure enough abuse for a thousand men? Weren’t the simplest tasks hard? Didn’t you sense him craving affection? Were you unaware that his days unraveled as one long bad dream? And maybe as the subGod slinks away, the true God will sweep me up in his arms, saying: My sincere apologies, a mistake has been made. Accept a new birth, as token of my esteem.

Let’s say that you and I are close friends, but after an argument one night, you stole my car and drove it into a lake. This is a serious crime with a serious penalty—let’s say $10,000 in damages and three years spent in prison. Now imagine you came to me and apologized, expressing sincere regret and grief over your actions. What if I responded by telling you I could forgive you, but only if my daughter took your place in prison and paid the fine on your behalf, because I am a merciful and just friend. My mercy compels me to forgive you, but my justice demands that the crime be punished. This is the exact picture that most Christians paint of God: a God who offers no choice but to demand punishment for sins. But if a good friend of mine wrecked my car, I could simply forgive that friend without anyone’s being punished. I’m a nice guy but certainly not the embodiment of perfect love—so why can I forgive with no strings attached but God can’t?

In order to apologize—really apologize, and not just utter some words—for something one has done or failed to do, one has not only to acknowledge responsibility for but express sincere sorrow and regret over this action or inaction. One can apologize only for acts for which one has no excuse. If one has an excuse, there is nothing to apologize for, even if there is something to feel sorry about ('I'm sorry that you are hurt,' even 'I'm sorry that my actions hurt you,' is quite different from 'I'm sorry that I hurt you'). A genuine apology thus involves a rather raw exposure of the apologizer: Having done the deed, one now not only reiterates having done it, but strips away any suggestion that there are extenuating circumstances that could relieve one of blame; it must be clear that he regrets what he has done and feels sorrow over what he was wrought. He doesn't just wish things were otherwise; he fully acknowledges his role in bringing them to this sorry state.

In 90% of cases, you can start with one of the two most effective ways to open a speech: ask a question or start with a story. Our brain doesn’t remember what we hear. It remembers only what we “see” or imagine while we listen. You can remember stories. Everything else is quickly forgotten. Smell is the most powerful sense out of 4 to immerse audience members into a scene. Every sentence either helps to drive your point home, or it detracts from clarity. There is no middle point. If you don’t have a foundational phrase in your speech, it means that your message is not clear enough to you, and if it’s not clear to you, there is no way it will be clear to your audience. Share your failures first. Show your audience members that you are not any better, smarter or more talented than they are. You are not an actor, you are a speaker. The main skill of an actor is to play a role; to be someone else. Your main skill as a speaker is to be yourself. People will forgive you for anything except for being boring. Speaking without passion is boring. If you are not excited about what you are talking about, how can you expect your audience to be excited? Never hide behind a lectern or a table. Your audience needs to see 100% of your body. Speak slowly and people will consider you to be a thoughtful and clever person. Leaders don’t talk much, but each word holds a lot of meaning and value. You always speak to only one person. Have a conversation directly with one person, look him or her in the eye. After you have logically completed one idea, which usually is 10-20 seconds, scan the audience and then stop your eyes on another person. Repeat this process again. Cover the entire room with eye contact. When you scan the audience and pick people for eye contact, pick positive people more often. When you pause, your audience thinks about your message and reflects. Pausing builds an audiences’ confidence. If you don’t pause, your audience doesn’t have time to digest what you've told them and hence, they will not remember a word of what you've said. Pause before and after you make an important point and stand still. During this pause, people think about your words and your message sinks in. After you make an important point and stand still. During this pause, people think about your words and your message sinks in. Speakers use filler words when they don’t know what to say, but they feel uncomfortable with silence. Have you ever seen a speaker who went on stage with a piece of paper and notes? Have you ever been one of these speakers? When people see you with paper in your hands, they instantly think, “This speaker is not sincere. He has a script and will talk according to the script.” The best speeches are not written, they are rewritten. Bad speakers create a 10 minutes speech and deliver it in 7 minutes. Great speakers create a 5 minute speech and deliver it in 7 minutes. Explain your ideas in a simple manner, so that the average 12-year-old child can understand the concept. Good speakers and experts can always explain the most complex ideas with very simple words. Stories evoke emotions. Factual information conveys logic. Emotions are far more important in a speech than logic. If you're considering whether to use statistics or a story, use a story. PowerPoint is for pictures not for words. Use as few words on the slide as possible. Never learn your speech word for word. Just rehearse it enough times to internalize the flow. If you watch a video of your speech, you can triple the pace of your development as a speaker. Make videos a habit. Meaningless words and clichés neither convey value nor information. Avoid them. Never apologize on stage. If people need to put in a lot of effort to understand you they simply won’t listen. On the other hand if you use very simple language you will connect with the audience and your speech will be remembered.

Three things happen when you apologize sincerely. First, you acknowledge someone’s anger or sadness. You validate that they have reason to be angry or that their anger is real. This often disarms them. Research shows that, after the apology, they no longer see you as a threat or as someone who might again harm them. They drop their defensive posture. And finally, when you’re successful, their brain prepares to forgive. They may even be able to move on from the source of injury entirely. Beverly Engel, a psychotherapist who specializes in trauma recovery, writes in her book The Power of Apology, “While an apology cannot undo harmful past actions, if done sincerely and effectively, it can undo the negative effects of those actions.

Marriage can, should, and must evolve. Don't be alarmed, and don't resent it. Be patient and kind, unflaggingly. In the long run, it's the unasked-for hot-water bottles on winter nights that matter more than the extravagant gestures. Express gratitude, especially for work that tends to get taken for granted. Identify problems as they arise, remembering that anger is flammable. When we've behaved like a donkey, remember that a sincere apology never diminishes the apologizer. Wrong turns teach us the right way.

marriage can, should and must evolve. Don’t be alarmed, and don’t resent it. Be patient and kind, unflaggingly. In the long run, it’s the unasked-for hot-water bottles on winter nights that matter more than the extravagant gestures. Express gratitude, especially for work that tends to get taken for granted. Identify problems as they arise, remembering that anger is flammable. When you’ve behaved like a donkey, Peter,’ the groom smiles at his toes, ‘remember that a sincere apology never diminishes the apologiser. Wrong turns teach us the right way.

So you’ve said. Which raises the question—why would you trust me to follow through?” “Total stupidity. I thought you were actually sincere when you apologized.” “I was sincere. I’m very sorry I fucked you.” Fury and embarrassment colored her face. “I hate you,” she hissed. “I’m aware. You’re certainly free to do so, but I suggest you think twice before pursuing a vendetta against me or my wife.” I stood. “You’re going to walk out the door and I’ll forget you exist—again. You don’t want me thinking about you, Deanna. You won’t like the direction my thoughts would take.

The beauty song of women is a love song. This is my truth. I love women. I don’t give a damn what others think of me. Let analysts analyze. Let psychologists murmur and suggest. Let moralists tut-tut and wring their hands. Let man-haters roar. I move through life without apology, without defense, without regret. I am wondrously in love with women, in love with the very idea of women, and if your heart is sincere, you will understand exactly what that means. This is what I live. This is what I love. This is what I believe. This is my religion, my saving grace. This is the air I breathe. When

Healing will come with trying different things, and in order to find what works, you might have to try some things that ultimately don’t work. That’s okay. What’s important is that you’re taking steps, one day at a time. Educating yourself, apologizing sincerely, and working to support them moving forward will go a long way.

Jeff Jenks showed up to say he was sorry but not really - some men are incapable of offering a sincere apology, Max realized; something in their nature refuses it, so instead they frame it as an accident, a misunderstanding, or a "sorry you're so upset" sort of thing that placed subtle blame on the other person for making such a big deal.

To Move from Woe to Wow with an Unhappy Customer. . . Apologize • Thank your customer for raising the issue. • Apologize sincerely–never argue. • Own the problem, even if it is not your fault. • Show genuine concern in your gestures, posture, and tone of voice. • Take your customer at their word without questioning their motives or integrity.

The history of the African-American, also, is so morally outrageous as to make the fact that there has never been an official apology almost unbelievable. A strange psychological phenomenon occurs when a truth is so big, so obvious, that it becomes, in some perverse way, almost easy to resist. The history of racism in the United States is so cruel yet systemic in our society. Perhaps we fear we could not bear the feelings of guilt that would be unleashed were we to make to African-Americans a sincere and heartfelt amends. The truth is it is not our guilt that would be unleashed but our love. Making a formal apology to African-Americans is what we need to do in order to morally resurrect as a nation.

Look, I can answer my own question. I don’t need to ask the bearded man. You should always apologize for your actions. Whether you believe in free will or not. Manners matter. A sincere apology has the power to save a friendship, a marriage, even a life. Just say sorry. That’s all you need to do. — I am sorry. Profoundly sorry. I could not, in fact, be sorrier.

Perfect' - the most misattributed word in English language A 'perfect' thing can never be improved - at least by what the meaning implies. Why should anyone want to be perfect? Unfortunately, this happens to be my greatest flaw. Turning a relative idea into an absolute one. Seeking perfection in others - or should I say 'subconsciously seeking perfection in myself' and projecting a benchmark based in fantasy on others. Makes one come across as judgmental, intolerant, arrogant or impatient - in short, a platinum-class jerk. But you, my friend, are too kind to tell me. Or you'd rather bear for the moment and cuss me roundly when I'm gone. That's unfair to us both. If I have ever done this to you, I am sincerely sorry. Accept my profound apologies

A sincere apology is a surrender, and when someone surrenders, you go in for the kill. But Usha wasn't interested in that. She calmly told me through her tears that it was never acceptable to run away, that she was worried, and that I had to learn how to talk to her. And then she gave me a hug and told me that she accepted my apology and was glad I was okay. That was the end of it.

She brought Foxen with, of course. She would hardly trust a place like that to behave in the dark. But since a proper birching of the place required two hands, Auri tied Foxen to a long lock of her hanging hair. Foxen’s dignity was somewhat bruised by this, and Auri kissed him in sincere apology for the affront. But they both knew he took a certain secret joy from swingling wildly all about, making the shadows spin and skirl.

Poppy,” he said raggedly, “I thought about you every minute of that twelve-hour carriage drive. About how to make you come back with me. I’ll do anything. I’ll buy you half of bloody London, if that will suffice.” “I don’t want half of London,” she said faintly. Her fingers tightened on the waist of his trousers. This was Harry as she had never seen him before, all defenses down, speaking to her with raw honesty. “I know I should apologize for coming between you and Bayning.” “Yes, you should,” she said. “I can’t. I’ll never be sorry about it. Because if I hadn’t done it, you’d be his now. And he only wanted you if it was easy for him. But I want you any way I can get you. Not because you’re beautiful or clever or kind or adorable, although the devil knows you’re all those things. I want you because there’s no one else like you, and I don’t ever want to start a day without seeing you.” As Poppy opened her mouth to reply, he smoothed his thumb across her lower lip, coaxing her to wait until he had finished. “Do you know what a balance wheel is?” She shook her head slightly. “There’s one in every clock or watch. It rotates back and forth without stopping. It’s what makes the ticking sound . . . what makes the hands move forward to mark the minutes. Without it, the watch wouldn’t work. You’re my balance wheel, Poppy.” He paused, his fingers compulsively following the fine curve of her jaw up to the lobe of her ear. “I spent today trying to think of what I could apologize for and maybe sound at least half sincere. And I finally came up with something.” “What is it?” she whispered. “I’m sorry I’m not the husband you wanted.” His voice turned gravelly. “But I swear on my life, if you’ll tell me what you need, I’ll listen. I’ll do anything you ask. Just don’t leave me again.

Apparently Rafe was a shamer. Shamers felt guilty after having sex, sometimes even apologizing for it, the same way they’d apologize for bumping into you with a dining hall tray. 'Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I’ll try not to be so clumsy next time.' It didn’t matter that they were sincere, because shame flowed in both directions. If a shamer had impulsive sex, which he considered a misdeed, then by definition he thought I’d done something wrong, too.

In our desire to be real we start thinking that authenticity is another word for spontaneity, as if everything we say at the spur of the moment is more true, more sincere than words we craft carefully. For many, the Freudian slip is considered more authentic than the measured reply. Indeed, sometimes what we blurt out thoughtlessly is actually what we mean and feel. But more often than not, what we blurt out is ill-considered and something we either need to qualify or apologize for

Can I make you a cup of tea?” He says that would be wonderful, and she smiles handsomely; then her face darkens in terrible sorrow. “And I am so sorry, Mr. Arthur,” she says, as if imparting the death of a loved one. “You are too early to see the cherry blossoms.” After the tea (which she makes by hand, whisking it into a bitter green foam—“Please eat the sugar cookie before the tea”) he is shown to his room and told it was, in fact, the novelist Kawabata Yasunari’s favorite. A low lacquered table is set on the tatami floor, and the woman slides back paper walls to reveal a moonlit corner garden dripping from a recent rain; Kawabata wrote of this garden in the rain that it was the heart of Kyoto. “Not any garden,” she says pointedly, “but this very garden.” She informs him that the tub in the bathroom is already warm and that an attendant will keep it warm, always, for whenever he needs it. Always. There is a yukata in the closet for him to wear. Would he like dinner in the room? She will bring it personally for him: the first of the four kaiseki meals he will be writing about. The kaiseki meal, he has learned, is an ancient formal meal drawn from both monasteries and the royal court. It is typically seven courses, each course composed of a particular type of food (grilled, simmered, raw) and seasonal ingredients. Tonight, it is butter bean, mugwort, and sea bream. Less is humbled both by the exquisite food and by the graciousness with which she presents it. “I most sincerely apologize I cannot be here tomorrow to see you; I must go to Tokyo.” She says this as if she were missing the most extraordinary of wonders: another day with Arthur Less. He sees, in the lines around her mouth, the shadow of the smile all widows wear in private. She bows and exits, returning with a sake sampler. He tries all three, and when asked which is his favorite, he says the Tonni, though he cannot tell the difference. He asks which is her favorite. She blinks and says: “The Tonni.” If only he could learn to lie so compassionately.

One day Moses was walking in the mountains on his own when he saw a shepherd in the distance. The man was on his knees with his hands spread out to the sky, praying. Moses was delighted. But when he got closer, he was equally stunned to hear the shepherd’s prayer. “Oh, my beloved God, I love Thee more than Thou can know. I will do anything for Thee, just say the word. Even if Thou asked me to slaughter the fattest sheep in my flock in Thy name, I would do so without hesitation. Thou would roast it and put its tail fat in Thy rice to make it more tasty.” Moses inched toward the shepherd, listening attentively. “Afterward I would wash Thy feet and clean Thine ears and pick Thy lice for Thee. That is how much I love Thee.” Having heard enough, Moses interrupted the shepherd, yelling, “Stop, you ignorant man! What do you think you are doing? Do you think God eats rice? Do you think God has feet for you to wash? This is not prayer. It is sheer blasphemy.” Dazed and ashamed, the shepherd apologized repeatedly and promised to pray as decent people did. Moses taught him several prayers that afternoon. Then he went on his way, utterly pleased with himself. But that night Moses heard a voice. It was God’s. “Oh, Moses, what have you done? You scolded that poor shepherd and failed to realize how dear he was to Me. He might not be saying the right things in the right way, but he was sincere. His heart was pure and his intentions good. I was pleased with him. His words might have been blasphemy to your ears, but to Me they were sweet blasphemy.” Moses immediately understood his mistake. The next day, early in the morning, he went back to the mountains to see the shepherd. He found him praying again, except this time he was praying in the way he had been instructed. In his determination to get the prayer right, he was stammering, bereft of the excitement and passion of his earlier prayer. Regretting what he had done to him, Moses patted the shepherd’s back and said: “My friend, I was wrong. Please forgive me. Keep praying in your own way. That is more precious in God’s eyes.” The shepherd was astonished to hear this, but even deeper was his relief. Nevertheless, he did not want to go back to his old prayers. Neither did he abide by the formal prayers that Moses had taught him. He had now found a new way of communicating with God. Though satisfied and blessed in his naïve devotion, he was now past that stage—beyond his sweet blasphemy. “So you see, don’t judge the way other people connect to God,” concluded Shams. “To each his own way and his own prayer. God does not take us at our word. He looks deep into our hearts. It is not the ceremonies or rituals that make a difference, but whether our hearts are sufficiently pure or not.

There’s nothing wrong with being wrong. Having the ability to acknowledge and fix your wrong builds trust. It’s much easier for us to think of ourselves as the victim than it is for us to consider that we’ve been a villain. Think about all the people who have done something wrong to you. Now consider how much peace you would have if they sincerely realized the impact of their decisions, apologized, and attempted to fix it. There are some people you could never imagine coming back to do that. I’m sorry they hurt you. I wish they realized the impact their decisions had on your heart and soul. The greatest gift you can give your future is not to let that spirit of ignoring the pain you’ve caused live on through you.

Maybe the God we see, the God who calls the daily shots, is merely a subGod. Maybe there’s a God above this subGod, who’s busy for a few Godminutes with something else, and will be right back, and when he gets back will take the subGod by the ear and say, “Now look. Look at that fat man. What did he ever do to you? Wasn’t he humble enough? Didn’t he endure enough abuse for a thousand men? Weren’t the simplest tasks hard? Didn’t you sense him craving affection? Were you unaware that his days unraveled as one long bad dream?” And maybe as the subGod slinks away, the true God will sweep me up in his arms, saying: My sincere apologies, a mistake has been made. Accept a new birth, as token of my esteem. And I will emerge again from between the legs of my mother, a slighter and more beautiful baby, destined for a different life, in which I am masterful, sleek as a deer, a winner.

Why an “exchange” of shame? Lockwood says that the victim she spoke with doesn’t want the perpetrator to suffer, but I think a more honest reckoning is that she doesn’t merely want him to suffer. It’s unsatisfying having someone who has victimized you feel no pain at all, but it’s also not enough for that person to feel pain of a sort that’s unrelated to the victimization—ideally, the sexual harasser should feel what it’s like to be the victim of sexual harassment. If he suffers because his child falls ill or his house burns down, it might be satisfying, but it’s not quite the same. Why is this symmetry so important? One consideration relates to something we’ve discussed before, which is the connection between understanding and experience. The victim might believe both that a sincere apology requires the perpetrator understanding what he or she did wrong . . . and that truly understanding what one did wrong requires having the experience yourself.

Jason, it’s a pleasure.” Instead of being in awe or “fangirling” over one of the best catchers in the country, my dad acts normal and doesn’t even mention the fact that Jason is a major league baseball player. “Going up north with my daughter?” “Yes, sir.” Jason sticks his hands in his back pockets and all I can focus on is the way his pecs press against the soft fabric of his shirt. “A-plus driver here in case you were wondering. No tickets, I enjoy a comfortable position of ten and two on the steering wheel, and I already established the rule in the car that it’s my playlist we’re listening to so there’s no fighting over music. Also, since it’s my off season, I took a siesta earlier today so I was fresh and alive for the drive tonight. I packed snacks, the tank is full, and there is water in reusable water bottles in the center console for each of us. Oh, and gum, in case I need something to chew if this one falls asleep.” He thumbs toward me. “I know how to use my fists if a bear comes near us, but I’m also not an idiot and know if it’s brown, hit the ground, if it’s black, fight that bastard back.” Oh my God, why is he so adorable? “I plan on teaching your daughter how to cook a proper meal this weekend, something she can make for you and your wife when you’re in town.” “Now this I like.” My dad chuckles. Chuckles. At Jason. I think I’m in an alternate universe. “I saw this great place that serves apparently the best pancakes in Illinois, so Sunday morning, I’d like to go there. I’d also like to hike, and when it comes to the sleeping arrangements, I was informed there are two bedrooms, and I plan on using one of them alone. No worries there.” Oh, I’m worried . . . that he plans on using the other one. “Well, looks like you’ve covered everything. This is a solid gentleman, Dottie.” I know. I really know. “Are you good? Am I allowed to leave now?” “I don’t know.” My dad scratches the side of his jaw. “Just from how charismatic this man is and his plans, I’m thinking I should take your place instead.” “I’m up for a bro weekend,” Jason says, his banter and decorum so easy. No wonder he’s loved so much. “Then I wouldn’t have to see the deep eye-roll your daughter gives me on a constant basis.” My dad leans in and says, “She gets that from me, but I will say this, I can’t possibly see myself eye-rolling with you. Do you have extra clothes packed for me?” “Do you mind sharing underwear with another man? Because I’m game.” My dad’s head falls back as he laughs. “I’ve never rubbed another man’s underwear on my junk, but never say never.” “Ohhh-kay, you two are done.” I reach up and press a kiss to my dad’s cheek. “We are leaving.” I take Jason by the arm and direct him back to the car. From over his shoulder, he mouths to my dad to call him, which my dad replies with a thumbs up. Ridiculous. Hilarious. When we’re saddled up in the car, I let out a long breath and shift my head to the side so I can look at him. Sincerely I say, “Sorry about that.” With the biggest smile on his face, his hand lands on my thigh. He gives it a good squeeze and says, “Don’t apologize, that was fucking awesome.

You talk nonsense and are pleased with it; you say impudent things and are in continual alarm and apologizing for them. You declare that you are afraid of nothing and at the same time try to ingratiate yourself in our good opinion. You declare that you are gnashing your teeth and at the same time you try to be witty so as to amuse us. You know that your witticisms are not witty, but you are evidently well satisfied with their literary value. You may, perhaps, have really suffered, but you have no respect for your own suffering. You may have sincerity, but you have no modesty; out of the pettiest vanity you expose your sincerity to publicity and ignominy. You doubtlessly mean to say something, but hide your last word through fear, because you have not the resolution to utter it, and only have a cowardly impudence. You boast of consciousness, but you are not sure of your ground, for though your mind works, yet your heart is darkened and corrupt, and you cannot have a full, genuine consciousness without a pure heart. And how intrusive you are, how you insist and grimace! Lies, lies, lies!

As he reached the bathroom door, Kiara’s bedroom door opened. Before he could think to avert his eyes, she saw them. Shit … Kiara’s mouth dropped as she finally saw what Nykyrian really looked like. Holy crippin’ flips. With his white hair down and flowing around his broad shoulders, he was gorgeous. The eyes staring at her were nothing like she’d imagined. They were clear and the lightest, prettiest shade of green she’d ever seen, with just a hint of a brown band around the outer edge of the iris. His eyes were human and they were beautiful. Her throat tightened in happiness. Those eyes gave her the first true glimpse of his soul. In them, she saw all the mistrust, anger, and bitterness. It was like seeing him naked. Biting her lip, she shifted her gaze to take in his entire face. There, she had no surprise. He was every bit as handsome as she’d suspected. He blinked and looked away, seemingly embarrassed. “I’m sorry about what I said last night,” he whispered, meeting her gaze for a moment to show her his sincerity before he looked away again. She bit her lip at the sudden thrill that skittered up her spine. This was the one person she was sure didn’t utter an apology often. “Syn told me last night. I’m sorry, too for what I said. I didn’t mean to be so harsh.” “Don’t worry about it. It didn’t even register on my pain scale.” He entered the bathroom and shut the door.

Fifty Ways to Love Your Partner 1. Love yourself first. 2. Start each day with a hug. 3. Serve breakfast in bed. 4. Say “I love you” every time you part ways. 5. Compliment freely and often. 6. Appreciate—and celebrate—your differences. 7. Live each day as if it’s your last. 8. Write unexpected love letters. 9. Plant a seed together and nurture it to maturity. 10. Go on a date once every week. 11. Send flowers for no reason. 12. Accept and love each others’ family and friends. 13. Make little signs that say “I love you” and post them all over the house. 14. Stop and smell the roses. 15. Kiss unexpectedly. 16. Seek out beautiful sunsets together. 17. Apologize sincerely. 18. Be forgiving. 19. Remember the day you fell in love—and recreate it. 20. Hold hands. 21. Say “I love you” with your eyes. 22. Let her cry in your arms. 23. Tell him you understand. 24. Drink toasts of love and commitment. 25. Do something arousing. 26. Let her give you directions when you’re lost. 27. Laugh at his jokes. 28. Appreciate her inner beauty. 29. Do the other person’s chores for a day. 30. Encourage wonderful dreams. 31. Commit a public display of affection. 32. Give loving massages with no strings attached. 33. Start a love journal and record your special moments. 34. Calm each others’ fears. 35. Walk barefoot on the beach together. 36. Ask her to marry you again. 37. Say yes. 38. Respect each other. 39. Be your partner’s biggest fan. 40. Give the love your partner wants to receive. 41. Give the love you want to receive. 42. Show interest in the other’s work. 43. Work on a project together. 44. Build a fort with blankets. 45. Swing as high as you can on a swing set by moonlight. 46. Have a picnic indoors on a rainy day. 47. Never go to bed mad. 48. Put your partner first in your prayers. 49. Kiss each other goodnight. 50. Sleep like spoons. Mark and Chrissy Donnelly

It was probably only a few intervals, though it seemed longer with Ryzven lurking and radiating impatience. At last Beryl and Kurr returned, markedly cleaner and fresher, and he heard Beryl telling the Greenspirit about the garden. His human hurried toward him, though her steps slowed when she spotted Ryzven nearby. Snaps squirmed in Zylar’s arms, so he set him down after checking the cord looped around his neck. Beryl reached for the leash as she eyed Ryzven, but she didn’t address him. Instead, she knelt and spoke nonsense words to the fur-person while rubbing him all over with her grabbers. Kurr filled the awkward silence with a stiff, formal greeting. “Honor to your kith and kin, renowned Ryzven. I am Kurr.” “A pleasure! Everyone who has been following the Choosing knows who you are, esteemed Greenspirit.” While Zylar would be pleased if Ryzven forgot his business with Beryl while dallying with Kurr, he doubted he’d be so lucky. And as Beryl rose, Ryzven turned to her, making sure she got the full impact of his rare colors. He even puffed out his thorax a little, and Beryl let out a breath, a sound Zylar identified as annoyance. She said something the translator couldn’t process. “I came to congratulate you on your—” Before Ryzven could finish his pompous sentence, Snaps ambled forward, lifted a leg, and eliminated on him. “I don’t like him,” Snaps said. “Beryl doesn’t like him. Let’s go!” “So sorry about that,” Beryl said in a flat tone. “Snaps is nervous around strangers.” Zylar had heard sincerity from her many times before, and on this occasion, she wasn’t remotely apologetic. In fact, her eyes were twinkling and she seemed to be having a hard time restraining herself from making the battle face, which she’d said indicated amusement or enjoyment. “You should clean that up,” he told Ryzven, who was sputtering incoherent outrage. Most likely, he would live to regret all of this, but it felt so good to get the best of his arrogant nest-mate for once that he didn’t even look back when Beryl grabbed his claw and led him toward the exit. It occurred to him that she was leading him like Snaps, only by the limb instead of using a cord, but it would have lessened the impact of their departure if he mentioned as much. Once they reached the public corridors, Kurr finally said, “I hope we have not given serious offense. I am…fearful.” The Greenspirit must know Ryzven’s reputation well. He wouldn’t accept such a humiliation without striking back. “Do not let it lessen your satisfaction in what you’ve achieved today. I will apologize more fully another time.” “Why would you apologize for something Snaps did?” Beryl cut in. “If anyone’s going to make amends, it should be me. Though for the record, I said ‘sorry’ already.” “It was insincere,” Kurr noted. Beryl stared for a long moment, then said, “That’s fair.” She took a step closer to the two of them and added in a whisper, “So when I apologize sincerely, I probably shouldn’t let on that I told Snaps to pee on him? I mean, theoretically.” The Greenspirit emitted a shocked rustling sound while Zylar simply could not contain his glee. He churred louder than he ever had in his life. “Truly? That’s what you said that the translator could not comprehend?” Then Beryl did show her fearsome aspect, displaying all her teeth. “I will neither confirm nor deny those allegations.” “Confirmed,” said Snaps. “I was promised extra snacks.” Still delighted with his intended, Zylar led the way to the garden, wondering how he should reward Beryl for improving his life in every conceivable way. 

Wisdom is not about never apologizing. It’s about sincere apology when it’s right.

I guess what I’m saying is that if everyone who made jokes in bad taste, as opposed to those who were fueled by hatred, simply apologized and never made those jokes again, I think it would be okay to move on from the past, as long as the apologies were sincere, well crafted, and accompanied by some sort of restitution, like a retroactive tip jar or a constitutional amendment. Jokes, after all, add up.

To not accept a rebuke is poor character. To make excuses is impudent,’ he told me. ‘To accept a minor accusation and to admit fault—whether deserved or not—shows good character. To Japanese people, an apology is accepted as sincere. And the slate is wiped clean. Knowing this, then to take responsibility whether just or not, face is kept. Americans don’t know this.’” My buddy’s advice to me—that if it was for anything less than a UCMJ offense—accept the rebuke. Apologize if it’s appropriate. Only explain if someone demands an explanation. And according to him, if I knew that pearl, then the world would be my oyster

Welcome the disagreement. Remember the slogan, “When two partners always agree, one of them is not necessary.” If there is some point you haven’t thought about, be thankful if it is brought to your attention. Perhaps this disagreement is your opportunity to be corrected before you make a serious mistake. Distrust your first instinctive impression. Our first natural reaction in a disagreeable situation is to be defensive. Be careful. Keep calm and watch out for your first reaction. It may be you at your worst, not our best. Control your temper. Remember, you can measure the size of a person by what makes him or her angry. Listen first. Give your opponents a chance to talk. Let them finish. Do not resist, defend or debate. This only raises barriers. Try to build bridges of understanding. Don’t build higher barriers of misunderstanding. Look for areas of agreement. When you have heard your opponents out, dwell first on the points and areas on which you agree. Be honest, Look for areas where you can admit error and say so. Apologize for your mistakes. It will help disarm your opponents and reduce defensiveness. Promise to think over your opponents’ ideas and study them carefully. And mean it. Your opponents may be right. It is a lot easier at this stage to agree to think about their points than to move rapidly ahead and find yourself in a position where your opponents can say, “We tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.” Thank your opponents sincerely for their interest. Anyone who takes the time to disagree with you is interested in the same things you are. Think of them as people who really want to help you, and you may turn your opponents into friends. Postpone action to give both sides time to think through the problem. Suggest that a new meeting be held later that day or the next day, when all the facts may be brought to bear. In preparation for this meeting, ask yourself some hard questions: Could my opponents be right? Partly right? Is there truth or merit in their position or argument? Is my reaction one that will relieve the problem, or will it just relieve any frustration? Will my reaction drive my opponents further away or draw them closer to me? Will my reaction elevate the estimation good people have of me? Will I win or lose? What price will I have to pay if I win? If I am quiet about it, will the disagreement blow over? Is this difficult situation an opportunity for me?

Reconciliation is so elusive because so few ever occupy a state of sincere remorse. If we are to be reconciled, the offender must become disturbed by the state of their soul—a contrition that births apology not for the sake of its own forgiveness but to honour the dignity that was once at risk.

I’m sorry, Blake.” My pulse races at the sincerity of his voice. Ryat never apologizes. “But your father has been lying to you all your life. Valerie isn’t your mother.

Maybe for the love I desecrated by not believing in Sylvia’s pain. I felt utterly sincere, apologizing, kissing her. It was too delicious, I think.

To err is human; we all make mistakes. That, however, can’t be the justification to repeat them. There are only two ways to show that we have realized our mistake: first, by not repeating it, and second, by offering a sincere apology. Let’s focus on the second point, that is, how to apologize. Apologizing correctly is neither an art nor a craft. It’s simply being natural and truthful. When we genuinely regret our action, the right words come out automatically and seeking forgiveness becomes easier.

I’ll see that Hap gets his apprenticeship. You simply could have asked me to do that when I visited you. Or years ago, you could have brought the lad to Buckkeep and we’d have seen him decently educated.” “He can read and write and figure,” I said defensively. “I saw to that.” “Good.” His reply was chill. “I’m glad to hear you retained that much common sense.” There seemed no rejoinder to that. Both pain and weariness were overcoming me. I knew I had hurt him but I didn’t feel it was my fault. How could I have known he’d be so willing to help me? Nevertheless, I apologized. “Chade, I’m sorry. I should have known you would help me.” “Yes,” he agreed mercilessly. “You should have. And you’re sorry. I don’t doubt you’re sincere. Yet I seem to recall warning you, years ago, that those words will only work so often, and then they ring hollow. Fitz, it hurts me to see you this way.” “It’s starting to ease,” I lied. “Not your head, you stupid ass. It hurts me to see that you are still…as you’ve always been since…damn. Since you were taken from your mother. Wary and isolated and mistrustful. Despite all I’ve…After all these years, have you given your trust to no one?” I was silent for a time, pondering his words. I had love Molly, but I had never trusted her with my secrets. My bond with Chade was as essential as my bones, but no, I had not believed he would do all he could for Hap,simply for the sake of what we shared. Burrich. Verity. Kettricken. Lady Patience. Starling. In every instance, I had held back. “I trust the Fool,” I said, and wondered if I truly did. I did, I assured myself. There was almost nothing about mr that he didn’t know. That was trust, wasn’t it? After a moment, Chade said heavily, “Well, that’s good. That you trust someone.” He turned away from me spoke to the fire. “You should force yourself to eat something. Your body may rebel, but you know that you need the food. Recall how we had to press food on Verity when he skilled.” The neutrality in his voice was almost painful. I realized then that he had hoped I would insist that I did trust him. It would not have been true, and I would not lie to him. I rummaged about in my mind for something else to give him. I spoke the words without thinking. “Chade, I do love you. It’s just that—” He turned to me almost abruptly. “Stop. Say no more.” His voice was almost pleading as he said, “That’s enough for me.” He set his hand to my shoulder and squeezed nearly painfully. “I won’t ask of you that which you can’t give. You are what life has made you. And what I made you, Eda be merciful.

They Apologize and Make Amends Emotionally mature people want to be responsible for their own behavior and are willing to apologize when needed. This kind of basic respect and reciprocity mends injured trust and hurt feelings and helps maintain good relationships. Although emotionally immature people may also offer apologies, these are often nothing more than lip service, designed to placate others without a real intent to change (Cloud and Townsend 1995). Such apologies have no heart in them and typically feel more like an evasion than relationship repair. People who are sincere, on the other hand, won’t just apologize; they’ll also make a clear statement about how they intend to do things differently. When you tell people that they’ve hurt or disappointed you, observe their response. Do they just defend themselves, or do they try to change? Do they apologize just to appease you, or do they understand and care about what you felt?

Don't just ask for an apology. Apologize by pointing out what you are really sorry for. And when you do, Do it sincerely and whole-heartedly.

I am afraid my fury and your insult are too shocking to be wiped out even with an apology,” said Gregory very calmly. “No duel could wipe it out. If I struck you dead I could not wipe it out. There is only one way by which that insult can be erased, and that way I choose. I am going, at the possible sacrifice of my life and honour, to prove to you that you were wrong in what you said.” “In what I said?” “You said I was not serious about being an anarchist.” “There are degrees of seriousness,” replied Syme. “I have never doubted that you were perfectly sincere in this sense, that you thought what you said well worth saying, that you thought a paradox might wake men up to a neglected truth.” Gregory stared at him steadily and painfully. “And in no other sense,” he asked, “you think me serious? You think me a flâneur who lets fall occasional truths. You do not think that in a deeper, a more deadly sense, I am serious.” Syme struck his stick violently on the stones of the road. “Serious!” he cried. “Good Lord! is this street serious? Are these damned Chinese lanterns serious? Is the whole caboodle serious? One comes here and talks a pack of bosh, and perhaps some sense as well, but I should think very little of a man who didn’t keep something in the background of his life that was more serious than all this talking—something more serious, whether it was religion or only drink.

Ad suddenly felt that I was owed an apology. From whom? The idiots who blamed homosexuality for every stupid thing? Or the specific idiot next to me for smothering himself in that bullshit and being unable to accept himself for what he was? Or the other idiot who fell for the first idiot, even when he knew the first idiot was an idiot, who fell for him so hard that he dug through his computer to know everything there was to possibly know about him? Maybe I was owed an apology from all of the above. Or maybe from none of them. Maybe from Umma. I really wanted a sincere apology from her. To hear her say, at least once in my life, that she was sorry. But that was never going to happen, was it?

I think we often underestimate the power of a sincere sorry. We think our reasons and excuses somehow make the hurt we’ve caused make sense, but the damage is done, and the only thing that makes it any better is admitting how wrong we were.

Sakura, Apologies for not sending you an email about homework sooner. I believed you were paying attention and didn’t need the reminder, but it seems you were distracted during class today, hmm? In case you wanted to know, I’ve been busy cleaning up the mess you made in detention this afternoon. I’ve had a long, hard problem since then that I’ll be taking care of while thinking about your punishment for tomorrow. Don’t be late to class. Sincerely, Mr. Avery.

Parris expressed his desire that the congregation “heartily, sincerely, and thoroughly” forgive one another, which is different from extending an apology. He added too the deal-breaking disclaimer that undercuts all such demands: he begged forgiveness for offenses his parishioners believed he had committed rather than for those he believed he had. As a peace offering however the statement was substantial. Visibly moved, Nurse’s son-in-law allowed that if their minister had acknowledged half as much earlier, a great deal of unpleasantness might have been averted.

It wasn’t a long reconciliation, but it didn’t need to be. Moving on didn’t always involve big gestures or heavy talks. Sometimes, the most meaningful moments were the small ones—a softening glance here, a simple but sincere apology there.

I sincerely apologize to your balls.

During that second year of law school, Usha and I traveled to D.C. for follow-up interviews with a few law firms. I returned to our hotel room, dejected that I had just performed poorly with one of the firms I really wanted to work for. When Usha tried to comfort me, to tell me that I’d probably done better than I expected, but that even if I hadn’t, there were other fish in the sea, I exploded. “Don’t tell me that I did fine,” I yelled. “You’re just making an excuse for weakness. I didn’t get here by making excuses for failure.” I stormed out of the room and spent the next couple of hours on the streets of D.C.’s business district. I thought about that time Mom took me and our toy poodle to Middletown’s Comfort Inn after a screaming match with Bob. We stayed there for a couple of days, until Mamaw convinced Mom that she had to return home and face her problems like an adult. And I thought about Mom during her childhood, running out the back door with her mother and sister to avoid another night of terror with her alcoholic father. I was a third-generation escaper. I was near Ford’s Theatre, the historic location where John Wilkes Booth shot Abraham Lincoln. About half a block from the theater is a corner store that sells Lincoln memorabilia. In it, a large Lincoln blow-up doll with an extraordinarily large grin gazes at those walking by. I felt like this inflatable Lincoln was mocking me. Why the hell is he smiling? I thought. Lincoln was melancholy to begin with, and if any place invoked a smile, surely it wouldn’t be a stone’s throw away from the place where someone shot him in the head. I turned the corner, and after a few steps I saw Usha sitting on the steps of Ford’s Theatre. She had run after me, worried about me being alone. I realized then that I had a problem—that I must confront whatever it was that had, for generations, caused those in my family to hurt those whom they loved. I apologized profusely to Usha. I expected her to tell me to go fuck myself, that it would take days to make up for what I’d done, that I was a terrible person. A sincere apology is a surrender, and when someone surrenders, you go in for the kill. But Usha wasn’t interested in that. She calmly told me through her tears that it was never acceptable to run away, that she was worried, and that I had to learn how to talk to her. And then she gave me a hug and told me that she accepted my apology and was glad I was okay. That was the end of it. Usha hadn’t learned how to fight in the hillbilly school of hard knocks.

When you call upon My name with sincerity, and a true heart of repentance, I will hear you, and I will answer you. “Repentance?” Because you have acknowledged your sin, I can forgive you. Because you have apologized, I have opened my ears to you. Because you have called upon Me, I will remember your plea, and remember that you decided to trust Me.

ravenous.” I nodded in agreement and started to get my head together. My fight with Emmy was still fresh, but I needed to focus. With some effort, I was able to push her out of my mind and prepare myself for battle with Vivian. “I hope you are in a better state of mind today, Mr. Kessler,” Judge Marsen said a half hour later. “I am. I apologize for my behavior, your Honor,” I said sincerely, and then added. “Bad hair day.” A few snickers arose from the few people seated behind me, but the judge was not amused and neither was her bailiff. I made it through the day without having

Why should I apologize if he’s the one being the asshole?” It’s a fairly common question. I have heard officers (a very few; it’s rare) say that they would never apologize to a criminal, and managers say they would never apologize to their employees. The whole idea is stupid. It is based on a fear of seeming weak or submissive or a parallel fear of being accused of being responsible. “I’m sorry.” Not much as a word thing, huh? Two words, expresses sympathy and nothing else… Here’s the big clue and the Monkey trick on this one:  “I don’t want to apologize because I don’t want to look weak.” Really? Being afraid of looking weak denies reality and our own experience. We have all seen arguments like this. We have all been part of the audience who will “see the weakness.” That’s not what happens. We see two people being unreasonable, not one. And the first person to apologize is clearly the smart one, the mature one, the leader. You gain, not lose, status when you make a reasonable, timely and sincere apology. From your own experience you have seen this time and again. You know this. If the other tries to turn it into a sign of weakness, gets so caught up in the Monkey Dance that he refuses the olive branch or presses for more, the audience identifies him as an ass and he loses status. We know this from our own experience of being the watchers. The very people you might be afraid to seem weak to. We know this. Still, the Monkey convinces us to be afraid of what people will think, even though we know they will not think it. People are not held in check by what people will think. They are held in check by what they imagine people will think. That imagination is patently, provably wrong. How much control will you let it have?

Jeremy, wait!” she called, bending over to catch her breath. When Jeremy saw her, he picked up his pace and hurried toward the crosswalk. Madison threw her head back and moaned, “I can’t keep up! Please stop.” At the intersection, he had to stop to wait for the traffic light, and she stumbled off the curb and stood in front of him, clutching her side. “Please listen for one minute,” she gasped. “I know that the Homecoming disaster wasn’t your fault. I know you didn’t put up those awful photos. And I am so ashamed for jumping to conclusions about you, and not ever giving you a chance to explain.” Jeremy opened his mouth to speak, and she help up her palm. “Just a minute. I’m not finished.” She bent over once more and took a couple of deep breaths. “I know you’ll never accept my apology because you think I’m heartless and self-centered. But just to prove to you that I’m sincere, I’m withdrawing from the race and throwing all my support behind you.” Madison waited for Jeremy to respond. As she looked into his eyes, he continued to say nothing. She felt her throat tighten painfully. Tears pooled in her eyes. Madison turned to leave before she embarrassed herself any further. But as she stepped into the crosswalk, Jeremy caught her by the arm. “Now hold it a minute, will you?” he said, gently pulling her back onto the curb. “You just dropped an awful lot of information in my lap. The least you can do is give me a moment to process it.” Madison put a hand over her mouth, trying to hold herself together. Then she looked up into his pale blue eyes. They were no longer ice cold but filled with compassion. “I guess I’ll begin by accepting your apology,” Jeremy said slowly. “And offer my own apology in return.” Madison laughed. “You apologize to me? Whatever for?” “Excuse me,” a man interrupted from behind them. He and a woman were walking with their tenspeeds. “This is a crosswalk. If you want to talk, there are plenty of places to do it over there.” He pointed back to the park, by the lake. They shared an embarrassed laugh.

In the collective prosecutorial mind our apologies are also apparently characterized as “so-called.” Though I find this insulting. It causes me suffering and moral harm. Because our apologies were sincere. I am so sad that we have said so many words and you have not understood any of them. Or are you lying when you talk of our apologies as though they were insincere? I don’t understand: What more do you need to hear? For me, only this trial can rightly be referred to as “so-called.” And I am not afraid of you. I am not afraid of lies and fictions and of poorly coded deception in the verdict of this so-called court, because all you can do is take away my so-called freedom, the only sort that exists in the Russian Federation. But no one can take away my inner freedom. It lives in my words and it will survive thanks to the public nature of my statements, which will be heard and read by thousands. This freedom is already multiplying, thanks to every caring person who hears us in this country. Thanks to everyone who has found splinters of this trial in themselves, as Franz Kafka and Guy Debord once did. I believe that openness and public speech and a hunger for the truth make us all a little bit freeer. We will see this yet. The

Neither am I. A grown man should be able to acknowledge a sincerely offered apology and converse in sentences consisting of more than five words. Good day, Dr. Lee.

Take steps to be humble, sincere, and authentic, and apologize if necessary. If a relationship is valuable to you, it is worth your concern and effort to make it right.

I know the way, my lord,” she said, glaring at him. “There is no need for this display.” “You are going to be responsible for Winnie’s first efforts to acquire a sense of decorum and reserve, Miss Farnum.” He picked up her hand and deposited it back on his forearm, then led her down the steps. “You must begin as you intend to go on and set a sincere example for the child. She’ll spot fraud at fifty paces, and even my authority won’t be able to salvage your efforts then. A lady graciously accepts appropriate escort.” “Is this how you trained recruits when you were soldiering?” She stomped along beside him, ignoring the beauty of the full moon and the fragrances of the summer night. “You box them in, reason with them, tease, argue, taunt, and twist until you get what you want?” “You are upset. If I have given offense, I apologize.

Captain Winston, I want to—” “Mrs. Prescott, I want to—” They’d spoken at the same time, only to pause simultaneously as well. He smiled. “Usually I would say ladies first. But I need to offer you an apology, Mrs. Prescott. And I’d appreciate you allowing me to do that.” “All right,” she said softly. “The other night, ma’am . . . I know I made you feel uncomfortable. When I . . . tried to kiss you. I want to say I’m sorry,” he added hurriedly. “I had no right to do that. And I want to guarantee you that you have no reason to feel awkward around me. Nor do you have to worry about being safe with me. I appreciate your friendship more than you realize, and your son’s.” His gaze softened and dropped briefly to Andrew. “I only hope I haven’t overstepped my bounds in a way that will prevent our friendship from continuing in the future.” Again hearing his sincerity in his well-chosen words, Aletta shifted Andrew in her arms, the boy growing heavy. “Thank you, Captain, for your kind apology. I accept, of course, and—” She looked away, embarrassed, feeling almost as if she needed to apologize, too, at least in part. Because she felt guilty for allowing him to think that the longing behind the moment had rested solely with him. Yet she also felt as though her apology would only muddy the waters. And life was murky enough as it was. “—I’m indebted to you for the kindness you’ve shown to me and Andrew. Feeling safe in your company, Captain . . . is something I will never worry about.” Relief showed in his expression. “So . . . truce?” She smiled. “Very much a truce.” She started for the stairs. “One more thing, if you would . . . a favor, of sorts.” She turned back and studied him for a moment, trying to decipher what that favor might be. “Since we’ve reached such an amiable truce, would you please call me Jake? And, likewise, would you allow me to address you by your Christian name, General Prescott?” She laughed softly. “My name is Aletta . . . Jake.” His pleasure evident in his expression, he gave her a mock salute before closing the door, and she carefully negotiated the stairs up to the bedroom.

I was trying to apologize,” she said, relief and humor easing into her eyes and curving her lips. “You didn’t answer my question.” He thought he might snap off the end of the pier, he was gripping it so hard. In response, she ducked her hand into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a folded and now somewhat crumpled piece of paper. “Here. Read for yourself.” He took the paper, realizing he was acting like a complete yobbo, and knew then that perhaps he wasn’t nearly so cool and levelheaded about this whole endeavor as he’d led her to believe. The truth of it being, he only really wanted her to figure out what would make her happy if what made her happy was him. Under her amused stare, he unfolded the paper and read: Dear Hook, I’m trying to be a good and supportive sister and help get Fiona and her ridiculously long veil down the aisle before I strangle her into submission with every hand-beaded, pearl-seeded foot of it. At the moment, sitting here knee-deep in crinolines and enough netting to outfit every member of Downton Abbey, I can’t safely predict a win in that ongoing effort. That said, I’d much rather be spending the time with you, sailing the high seas on our pirate ship. Especially that part where we stayed anchored in one spot for an afternoon and all the plundering was going on aboard our own boat. I’ve been thinking a lot about everything everyone has said and have come to the conclusion that the only thing I’m sure of is that I’m thinking too much. I’ve decided it was better when I was just feeling things and not thinking endlessly about them. I especially liked the things I was feeling on our picnic for two. So this is all to say I’d like to go, um, sailing again. Even if there’s no boat involved this time. I hope you won’t think less of me for the request, but please take seeing a whole lot more of me as a consolation prize if you do. Also? Save me. Or send bail money. Sincerely, Starfish, Queen of the High Seas, Plunderer of Pirates, especially those with a really clever right Hook. He was smiling and shaking his head as he folded the note closed and tucked it in his shirt pocket. “Well?” she said at length. “Apology accepted” was all he said. “And?” He slid a look her way. “And…what?” She’d made him wait three days, and punitive or not, he wasn’t in any hurry to put her out of her misery. Plus, when he did, it was likely to be that much more fun. “You’re going to make me spell it out, aren’t you? Don’t you realize it was hard enough just putting it in writing?” “I accept your lovely invitation,” he said, then added, “I only have one caveat.” Her relief turned to wary suspicion as she eyed him. “Oh? And that would be?” “Will you wear the crinolines?

Where are you going? I came to apologize for earlier and I can’t allow you to leave more upset than before.” The kind sincerity in his eyes wedged the hurt deeper as he continued. “Allow me to speak that which I came to say.” “Nay. This conversation has ended.” She yanked from his grasp and marched to the door, mumbling under her breath. “Perhaps I should have accepted Higley’s proposal after all.” “Higley? Who’s Higley?” He marched after her and tugged on her elbow. “You mean Donaldson is not courting you? Has someone proposed to you?” “Nay, Henry is not courting me, and aye, someone has proposed.” She stopped at the door and whirled around. “I should reprimand myself for not having thought more of the arrangement. At least he accepts me for who I am instead of hoping to change me to meet his expectations.” She started toward the exit but Nathaniel darted in front of her. “Kitty, you’re talking foolishness. No one wants you to change.” Ha! Kitty tilted her head. “Really?” Had he completely forgotten what they’d just discussed? She dodged sideways to make her escape but he blocked her flight, gripping her shoulders. Holding back an unladylike growl, she glared. “Nathaniel, let me pass.” “Not until I can make you believe that I don’t want to change you—and not until you tell me who this Higley fellow is. I am most curious.” His chin lowered and he looked at her with the condescendence of an older sibling, ready to scold her for stealing a sweet. How dare he! She let out a sharp laugh refusing to dignify his question with an answer. Yanking from his grasp, Kitty marched down the hall. Nathaniel followed directly behind. “Where are you going?” She stared forward, her breath heating with each exhale. “Home.”  He pulled on her shoulder to stop her. “By yourself?” She jerked to a halt. This time she did look at him, praying the barbs she threw from her eyes made their mark, but from the irritating smirk he failed to hide, her invisible weapons did nothing. “Aye, by myself.” He shook his head. “If you’re leaving, then I’m escorting you home.” “You are not.” “You may be stubborn, Kitty Campbell, but I cannot allow you to walk home—” “You absolutely will. I am at liberty to do as I please, am I not? I have the right to refuse to be escorted by a thick-headed patriot missionary.” ***

Who is that full-figured fellow?” “I’m not a man!” was the response. “You’re backlit, I’m sorry. You’re just bringing more to the party as far as I’m concerned.” Bill’s apology sounded sincere, but he didn’t dwell on the faux pas. “What’s up? What’s your question?” “What’s up, Bill Murray?” she asked. “Don’t worry—that’s not my question. I actually came all the way from Vancouver for this.” “Is anyone driving back to Vancouver after this?” Bill called out. “Is that the question?” “There’s a million things I could ask you right now,” she said. “The only thing that comes to my mind is ‘How does it feel to be you?’ 

So, what are you doing here?” She couldn’t help it if her tone sounded a little tired. This was becoming farcical. “I came to tell you that I--” he rushed to speak, then composed himself, looked around, and stepped closer to her so he did not need to raise his voice to be heard. The brunette leaned forward just a tad. “I apologize for having to tell you here, in this busy, dirty…this is not the scene I would set, but you must know that I…” He took off his cap and rubbed his hair ragged. “I’ve been working at Pembrook Park for nearly four years. All the women I see, week after week, they’re the same. Nearly from the first, that morning when we were alone in the park, I guessed that you might be different. You were sincere.” He reached for her hand. He seemed to gain confidence, his lips started to smile, and he looked at her as though he never wished to look away. Zing, she thought, out of habit mostly, because she wasn’t buying any of it. Martin groaned at the silliness. Nobley immediately stuck his cap back on and stepped back, and he seemed unsure if he’d been too forward, if he should still play by the rules. “I know you have no reason to believe me, but I wish you would. Last night in the library, I wanted to tell you how I felt. I should have. But I wasn’t sure how you…I let myself speak the same tired sort of proposal I used on everyone. You were right to reject me. It was a proper slap in the face. No one had ever said no before. You made me sit up and think. Well, I didn’t want to think much, at first. But after you left this morning, I asked myself, are you going to let her go just because you met her while acting a part?” Nobley paused as if waiting for the answer. “Oh, come on, Jane,” Martin said. “You’re not going to buy this from him.” “Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” Jane said. “You…you were paid to kiss me! And it was a game, a joke on me, you disgusting lurch. You’ve got no right to call me Jane. I’m Miss Erstwhile to you.” “Don’t give me that,” Martin said. His patience was fraying. “All of Pembrook Park is one big drama, you’d have to be dense not to see that. You were acting too, just like the rest of us, having a fling on holiday, weren’t you? And it’s not as though kissing you was odious.” “Odious?” “I’m saying it wasn’t.” Martin paused and appeared to be putting back on his romancing-the-woman persona. “I enjoyed it, all of it. Well, except for the root beer. And if you’re going to write that article, you should know that I believe what we had was real.” The brunette sighed. Jane just rolled her eyes. “We had something real,” Nobley said, starting to sound a little desperate. “You must have felt it, seeping through the costumes and pretenses.” The brunette nodded. “Seeping through the pretenses? Listen to him, he’s still acting.” Martin turned to the brunette in search of an ally. “Do I detect any jealousy there, my flagpole-like friend?” Nobley said. “Still upset that you weren’t cast as a gentleman? You do make a very good gardener.” Martin took a swing. Nobley ducked and rammed into his body, pushing them both to the ground. The brunette squealed and bounced on the balls of her feet.

Then, impossibly, another figure ran toward her. The sideburns and stiff-collared jacket looked ridiculous out of the context of Pembrook Park, though he’d stuck on a baseball cap and trench coat, trying to blend. His face was flushed from running, and when he saw Jane, he sighed with relief. Jane dropped her jaw. Literally. She had never, even in her most ridiculous daydreaming, imagined that Mr. Nobley would come after her. She took a step back, hit something slick with her boot heel, and tottered almost to the ground. Mr. Nobley caught her and set her back up on her feet. Is this why women wear heels? thought Jane. We hobble ourselves so we can still be rescued by men? She annoyed herself by having enjoyed it. Briefly. “You haven’t left yet,” Nobley said. He seemed reluctant to let go of her, but he did and took a few steps back. “I’ve been panicked that…” He saw Martin. “What are you doing here?” The brunette was watching with hungry intensity, though she kept tapping at a keyboard as though actually very busy at work. “Jane and I got close these past weeks and--” Martin began. “Got close. That’s a load of duff. It’s one thing when you’re toying with the dowagers who guess what you are, but Jane should be off limits.” He took her arm. “You can’t believe a word he says. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier, but you must know now that he’s an actor.” “I know,” Jane said. Nobley blinked. “Oh.” “So, what are you doing here?” She couldn’t help it if her tone sounded a little tired. This was becoming farcical. “I came to tell you that I--” he rushed to speak, then composed himself, looked around, and stepped closer to her so he did not need to raise his voice to be heard. The brunette leaned forward just a tad. “I apologize for having to tell you here, in this busy, dirty…this is not the scene I would set, but you must know that I…” He took off his cap and rubbed his hair ragged. “I’ve been working at Pembrook Park for nearly four years. All the women I see, week after week, they’re the same. Nearly from the first, that morning when we were alone in the park, I guessed that you might be different. You were sincere.” He reached for her hand. He seemed to gain confidence, his lips started to smile, and he looked at her as though he never wished to look away.

For some reason, her apology didn’t sound sincere to me.

It’s Not Easy Let’s be honest. Ethics is not for wimps. It’s not easy being a good person. It’s not easy: to be honest when it might be costly. To keep inconvenient promises or to put principles above comfort. It’s not easy: to stand up for your beliefs and still respect differing viewpoints. It’s not easy: to be on time. To control anger. To be accountable for attitudes and actions. To refrain from gossip and hurtful words. To tackle unpleasant tasks. Or to sacrifice the now for later. It’s not easy: to bear criticism and learn from it without getting angry. To take advice. Or to admit error. It’s not easy: to really feel sorry and apologize sincerely. To accept an apology graciously. Or to forgive and let go. It’s not easy: to not complain. To stop feeling like a victim. To avoid disheartening cynicism. To make the best of every situation. Or to be cheerful for the sake of others. It’s not easy: to share. To be consistently kind. To think of others first. To judge generously. To give the benefit of the doubt. To give without concern for gratitude. Or to be grateful. It’s not easy: to fail and still keep trying. To learn from failure. To risk failing again. To start over. To lose with grace. Or to be glad for the success of another. It’s not easy: to avoid excuses. To resist temptations. Or to listen to our better angels. No, being a person of character is not easy. That’s why it’s such a lofty goal and an admirable achievement.

A speaker was talking about the power of positive thinking and the power of words. One of the audience members raised his hand and said, “It’s not saying ‘good fortune, good fortune, good fortune’ that will make me feel better. Nor will saying ‘bad luck, bad luck, bad luck’ make me feel worse. They’re only words and by themselves have no power.” The speaker replied, “Shut up, you fool, you don’t understand a thing about this.” The audience member was stunned. His face became red, and he was tempted to reply, “You @&!!&&@!” [something I can’t say in this book]. The speaker raised his hand. “Please excuse me. I didn’t mean to upset you. Please accept my most sincere apologies.” The member of the audience calmed down. Some people in the hall murmured; others shuffled their feet. The speaker resumed. “There’s the reply to the question you asked me. A few words made you very angry. The other words calmed you down. Now do you understand the power of words?

This was a media beat-up at its very worst. All those officials reacting to what the media labeled “The Baby Bob Incident” failed to understand the Irwin family. This is what we did--teach our children about wildlife, from a very early age. It wasn’t unnatural and it wasn’t a stunt. It was, on the contrary, an old and valued family tradition, and one that I embraced wholeheartedly. It was who we were. To have the press fasten on the practice as irresponsible made us feel that our very ability as parents was being attacked. It didn’t make any sense. This is why Steve never publicly apologized. For him to say “I’m sorry” would mean that he was sorry that Bob and Lyn raised him the way they did, and that was simply impossible. The best he could do was to sincerely apologize if he had worried anyone. The reality was that he would have been remiss as a parent if he didn’t teach his kids how to coexist with wildlife. After all, his kids didn’t just have busy roads and hot stoves to contend with. They literally had to learn how to live with crocodiles and venomous snakes in their backyard. Through it all, the plight of the Tibetan nuns was completely and totally ignored. The world media had not a word to spare about a dry well that hundreds of people depended on. For months, any time Steve encountered the press, Tibetan nuns were about the furthest thing from the reporter’s mind. The questions would always be the same: “Hey, Stevo, what about the Baby Bob Incident?” “If I could relive Friday, mate, I’d go surfing,” Steve said on a hugely publicized national television appearance in the United States. “I can’t go back to Friday, but you know what, mate? Don’t think for one second I would ever endanger my children, mate, because they’re the most important thing in my life, just like I was with my mum and dad.” Steve and I struggled to get back to a point where we felt normal again. Sponsors spoke about terminating contracts. Members of our own documentary crew sought to distance themselves from us, and our relationship with Discovery was on shaky ground. But gradually we were able to tune out the static and hear what people were saying. Not the press, but the people. We read the e-mails that had been pouring in, as well as faxes, letters, and phone messages. Real people helped to get us back on track. Their kids were growing up with them on cattle ranches and could already drive tractors, or lived on horse farms and helped handle skittish stallions. Other children were learning to be gymnasts, a sport which was physically rigorous and held out the chance of injury. The parents had sent us messages of support. “Don’t feel bad, Steve,” wrote one eleven-year-old from Sydney. “It’s not the wildlife that’s dangerous.” A mother wrote us, “I have a new little baby, and if you want to take him in on the croc show it is okay with me.” So many parents employed the same phrase: “I’d trust my kids with Steve any day.

If the one who committed the crime is sincere in his apology, then mistakes aren’t unforgivable

When members of minority groups have suffered at the hands of their compatriots, any attempt to create a sense of shared destiny between them needs to be premised on an acknowledgment of historical wrongs and a sincere apology for them. When neither that acknowledgment nor that apology is forthcoming, it is unsurprising that many people will refuse to buy into the airbrushed story their country tells about itself—and feel reluctant to embrace a shared identity.

Without You Everything Is Hideous How are you? , sweetheart, here I am writing these letters and your thought does not leave me and here you are still the closest to me since that day, which did not end until now. I scatter my letters in front of your beautiful eyes to tell you that I am wrong and guilty ; Although I have not forgotten you for a moment, even while I am trying to convince myself that everything is finished from your point of view, but I make up for it and say well, this is enough for me to try to snatch her icy heart again, this heart that loved me with all sincerity that innocent childish heart that never hated One even over the one who is because of him has left me for a long time due to false suspicion I remember all your letters, so I read them from time to time How nice it was to call me a childish nickname - capturing like your cheeks a happy nickname. You didn’t know all my reasons, sweetie I indirectly told you about the biggest reason when I told you to read “So Forgive Me ”You are the most beautiful thing that has happened to me since I knew you. My beauty, today I want to tell you that you forgot something one day. You asked me: Have you loved before? So I told you : Yes I did it was a long time ago when I was a teenager; I never thought that I would love again after I was wounded by that deep wound, when I was left alone, the wolves of loneliness and separation scattered me, and no one comes to me to pull me from the bottom of the debris that happened in my heart, And to be honest, I was not afraid for myself as much as I feared for your tender heart; I don’t ever want to be the lover who leaves his lover, especially if it is you. My beautiful woman, I wanted to make sure that my heart never beats for anyone but you It’s not easy, believe me I admire you since we became close, since we started speaking in the innocent language of children, since you used to say to me you are late to respond, even if I was late for a few seconds since night became for us a second day we talk about it until dawn and more Since you were quarreling with others trying to make them understand my point of view. How delicious days were when you looked at me from a distance and smiled, and when I heard your laughter as much as I was jealous, my heart beat with joy All your conditions were beautiful even when you quarreled with me I am not here trying to tell you that I am innocent, I am not I hurt you many times but I swear it was not with intent They were rather fleeting and spontaneous things. I admit that I have hurt your pride and here I am now bearing the consequences of this matter, and I swear it is not an easy thing. But, my flower, when you told me that excuse to stay away from me for three months, it smashed me, how can someone take my moon from me? The one that shone my eyes and melted the ice around my heart after my heart became so attached to her that I became so addicted to her that when I talk to any girl I call her by your name. My little girl I lost my love previously, and I do not want to lose you, because I know that you are a twin of my soul, even if you deny this now, but in the depths of your heart you know the validity of this matter. I apologize for every moment that made you think with pain I just wanted to protect you from fleeting feelings or just those feelings that were attracted to you And I know you crave someone to love you just because you are beautiful I wanted to protect you from the feelings of a teenager And if it was a year or less late to reveal it You know that valuable things no matter how late they are, their value will be better, finer, sincere and thinner, and you deserve strong, sincere feelings that stem from the depths of the heart and from the depths of the soul feelings befitting you I see in you all the beauties in life And without you, everything is Hideous You have all my feelings, beautiful cheeks.

apologize sincerely and profusely for the way this must look, sir. You have every right to demand that I marry your daughter, but—” Edward was gripping his glass so hard he feared it might shatter in his hand. “Did you fuck her?” The boy winced as if Edward had slapped him. Oh, Edward liked making him squirm. “No, sir. I swear to you on her mother’s grave: I did not touch your daughter. Not even as a physician. It was a verbal consultation, nothing more.

some men are incapable of offering a sincere apology, Max realized; something in their nature refuses it,

Promises made under pressure are like fragile glass; they may look beautiful and sincere in the moment, but without the proper care and attention, they are bound to shatter and leave us with nothing but disappointment and regret.

Often, when one partner insists that they don’t yet feel acknowledged, even as the one who hurt them insists they feel terrible, it is because the response is still more shame than guilt, and therefore self-focused. In the aftermath of betrayal, authentic guilt, leading to remorse, is an essential repair tool. A sincere apology signals a care for and commitment to the relationship, a sharing of the burden of suffering,

when one partner insists that they don’t yet feel acknowledged, even as the one who hurt them insists they feel terrible, it is because the response is still more shame than guilt, and therefore self-focused. In the aftermath of betrayal, authentic guilt, leading to remorse, is an essential repair tool. A sincere apology signals a care for and commitment to the relationship, a sharing of the burden of suffering, and a restoration of the balance of power.5

Dear Andy, Without going too much into the details… I lost myself for a while, and I let down the people who love me so many times. I’m feeling stable again and it’s been a while since I slipped up so bad, but I don’t know how to apologize for the stuff I put my family through. Sorry feels like such a weak word, especially when you’ve said it as many times as I have. What can I say to them that’s deeper and more meaningful than another apology? Sincerely, SOOO Sorry

There’s a beautiful old practice in Hawaii called Hoʻoponopono. It’s hard to translate, but it means something like ‘to make good and tidy up.’ It has to do with restitution and forgiveness—putting things right again. The modern version goes something like this: I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.  You’ve already done the second hardest part, which is admitting that you were wrong. You’ve apologized. If you haven’t expressed your gratitude and love, now’s the time.  And the hardest part, Sorry? The part that comes after the apology? You show them every day that you meant what you said. You don’t mess up the same way again. When you inevitably do mess up again in a new way, as we all do, back to basics: I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.  Show them the same unfailing support that they’ve given you, and eventually it will even out.  Sincerely, Andy

I am a terribly cruel friend. I shouldn’t apologize for it, but I do. “I am sorry for being so harsh.” I told him with full sincerity. “I need to be this way.” I admitted my meanness like a shrug woven from get the fuck over it.

are so honored to have Queen Glacier’s nephew in our forest,” she said. “I sincerely apologize for the outrageous behavior of my brain-dead bodyguard.

I’d love to offer you a drink under normal circumstances, but I must offer my most sincere apologies. My presence is needed at another location, and I regret I don’t have much time.

To not accept a rebuke is poor character. To make excuses is impudent,’ he told me. ‘To accept a minor accusation and to admit fault—whether deserved or not—shows good character. To Japanese people, an apology is accepted as sincere. And the slate is wiped clean. Knowing this, then to take responsibility whether just or not, face is kept. Americans don’t know this.

If you have been the victim of developers “delivering working software every two weeks,” please accept my sincere apology.

Do not try to give a serious apology via electronic media. Taking the time to speak directly with someone better conveys your sincerity.

What are the steps for giving a good apology? Body language can make or break the sincerity of an apology. Be sure that you maintain eye contact. Don't cross your arms defensively, Listen with concern, and speak with a pleasant tone of voice. Then, choose words that do not blame others, excuse yourself, or deny responsibility. Instead, take responsibility for your part of the problem. Do this even if it wasn't all your fault. Express sorrow for hurt feelings. Offer to make amends. Talk about how you can prevent the problem from happening again, and consider requesting forgiveness.

some men are incapable of offering a sincere apology, Max realized; something in their nature refuses it, so instead they frame it as an accident, a misunderstanding, or a “sorry you’re so upset” sort of thing that placed subtle blame on the other person for making such a big deal.

She has a ten-year-old son and a face like a sincere apology for something that really isn’t her fault.

Thank you.' 'No insincere thanks are required or needed. It is my duty to keep you safe.' He paused. 'Even from treacherous staircases.' I took a dee, even breath. 'My gratitude was not insincere.' 'My apologies then.' I didn't have to look at him to know he was grinning, and I'd bet that stupid dimple was gracing the world with its presence.

Thank you.' 'No insincere thanks are required or needed. It is my duty to keep you safe.' He paused. 'Even from treacherous staircases.' I took a deep, even breath. 'My gratitude was not insincere.' 'My apologies then.' I didn't have to look at him to know he was grinning, and I'd bet that stupid dimple was gracing the world with its presence.

Now my readers will understand that seppuku was not a mere suicidal process. It was an institution, legal and ceremonial. An invention of the Middle Ages, it was a process by which warriors could expiate their crimes, apologize for errors, escape from disgrace, redeem their friends, or prove their sincerity. When enforced as a legal punishment, it was practiced with due ceremony. It was a refinement of self-destruction, and none could perform it without the utmost coolness of temper and composure of demeanor, and for these reasons it was particularly befitting the profession of bushi.

Either way, I wish you luck," Mika said. "No, you don't." I sniffed. "Darren!" Mr. Crepsley said. "It's all right." Mika silenced him with a wave of his hand. "Let the boy speak his mind." "You made me take the Trials," I said. "You don't think I'm good enough to be a vampire. You'll be happy if I fail, because it'll prove you were right." "Your assistant has a low opinion of me, Larten," Mika remarked. "He is young, Mika. He does not know his place." "Don't apologize for him. The young should speak their minds." He addressed me directly again. "You are right in one thing only, Darren Shan — I don't think you have what it takes to make it as a vampire. As for the rest of what you say..." — He shook his head — "No vampire takes pleasure in seeing another fail. I sincerely hope you prove me wrong. We need vampires in good standing, now more than ever. I will raise a glass of blood to your name if you complete the Trials, and willingly admit in public that I misjudged you." "Oh," I said, confused. "In that case, I guess I'm sorry for what I said. No hard feelings?" The black-haired, eagle-eyed Prince smiled tightly. "No hard feelings." Then he clapped his hands loudly and barked sharply, "May the gods bless you with the luck of the vampires!" — and the Trial began.

There’s only one kind of apology that cannot fail to generate empathy: an apology that instantly convinces us of its sincerity. In real life, no apology can do that. There will always be skeptics, and appropriately so. The truth of an apology doesn’t lie in its words. It lies in the mind behind those words, and that mind can never be perceived with total certainty. But in literature, there are apologies that can instantly convince us of their sincerity. That’s because literature allows us to peer into characters’ heads, inspecting their minds for an apology’s neural proof: remorse. If we see that remorse, then we know that the apology is genuine. And, indeed, if we see that remorse, then we don’t even need a formal apology. The character can simply wail, collapse, or gibber incoherently, and we’ll feel: That’s because he regrets what he did. That’s because he accepts blame and repents his mistake. This is precisely how we come to feel about the title character of Sophocles’s tragedy Oedipus Tyrannus.

I looked across the table and caught Jack watching me while Chloe and Gage whispered sweet nothings to each other. "What are you looking at?" I demanded. "You." My heart squeezed in my chest. "Well, don't look at me. I would say don't talk to me, either, but we need to get this thing done." "Would it help if I apologized?" Sincerity oozed from every pore of his handsome face. It was incredibly irritating. "Apologize for what? For ghosting me? For kissing Clare? For failing to tell me about your past or your psychotic bunny-boiling ex? For making her so angry that she ratted us out to a Mafia boss who has threatened to kill me and my friends?

Giving him one last disgruntled look, I turned my attention toward the front of the car, his apparent sincerity and willingness to take responsibility, understand the issue, and apologize without qualifiers completely perplexing. Who does that?

Never ruin an apology with an excuse. Sincerity ends where excuses begin. True remorse demands acceptance, not excuses. An apology with an excuse is like a gift with a price tag. Apologies are the salve for broken trust—excuses only delay the healing, excuses turn an apology into a justification. A sincere apology acknowledges fault; excuses only muddy the waters.

Now, an apology isn’t really an apology unless you experience a change in heart. To offer a sincere apology, your motives have to change. You have to give up saving face, being right, or winning in order to focus on what you really want. You have to sacrifice a bit of your ego by admitting your error.

I couldn’t say anything to this sincere, drugged apology for having suspected the truth. He was never going to accuse me. It was only a feeling he had, and at this moment he must have been formulating a new commandment in his personal decalogue: Never accuse a friend of a crime if you only have a feeling he did

A sincere apology has the power to save a friendship, a marriage, even a life.

The shift from shame to guilt is crucial. Shame is a state of self-absorption, while guilt is an empathic, relational response, inspired by the hurt you have caused another. We know from trauma that healing begins when perpetrators acknowledge their wrongdoing. Often, when one partner insists that they don’t yet feel acknowledged, even as the one who hurt them insists they feel terrible, it is because the response is still more shame than guilt, and therefore self-focused. In the aftermath of betrayal, authentic guilt, leading to remorse, is an essential repair tool. A sincere apology signals a care for and commitment to the relationship, a sharing of the burden of suffering, and a restoration of the balance of power.

Another long pause. Then, “I know.” “That’s all you have to say?” “That, and I’m sorry.” “I don’t want your apology.” “What do you want then?” The question is sincere, not exasperated. You. Pride and common sense keep that syllable from slipping out of my mouth. We’re over. We’ve been over. We’ll stay over.

I grew up with a “God is watching you, so you better not make him mad” mentality. I felt guilty for feeling good, for feeling bad, and for feeling nothing. Attending Confession was supposed to alleviate some of the guilt, but I always ended up feeling guilty for not telling the priest everything I felt guilty about, so I stopped going to Confession. Then I felt guilty that I stopped going to Confession. That’s a lot of guilt. Just when I thought that nothing could top “Catholic Guilt,” I became acquainted with “Parental Guilt,” which totally puts “Catholic Guilt” to shame. Sorry, Catholic Guilt. Now I feel guilty for shaming you. Well, at least now you know how I feel. No matter how hard you try to be a good parent, you always know deep down that you could do more. I feel guilty when I travel out of town to do shows. I feel guilty when I’m in town and I don’t spend every single moment with my children. I feel guilty when I’m spending time with my children and I am not doing something constructive toward their intellectual development. I feel guilty when I feed them unhealthy food they like. I feel guilty when I feed them healthy food they don’t like. I feel guilty when I drop them off at school. I feel guilty when I pick them up at school. I feel guilty mostly for writing this book instead of spending time with them. Great, now I’ve probably made you feel guilty for reading this book. I feel guilty about that now, too. Sorry. Probably what I feel most guilty about is how many times I have used the word guilty in this essay. Again, let me sincerely apologize. Wow. I feel so much better after this confession. You were right, Catholic Guilt. Thank you.

We’re still craving the old corner store and the proprietor who knows our name. We’re wowed by personalization, and we know when something is a cut-and-paste reply. We tell our friends when a big company is friendly and thoughtful. We really just want the person on the other end of the phone to apologize sincerely for the trouble we’re having and empathize with our annoyance.

Sincere [10w] The only thing that must be sincere are our apologies.

we need to apologize and we need to do it sincerely. Great deposits come in the sincere words:

In an article in Bits and Pieces,* some suggestions are made on how to keep a disagreement from becoming an argument: Welcome the disagreement. Remember the slogan, "When two partners always agree, one of them is not necessary." If there is some point you haven't thought about, be thankful if it is brought to your attention. Perhaps this disagreement is your opportunity to be corrected before you make a serious mistake. Distrust your first instinctive impression. Our first natural reaction in a disagreeable situation is to be defensive. Be careful. Keep calm and watch out for your first reaction. It may be you at your worst, not your best. Control your temper. Remember, you can measure the size of a person by what makes him or her angry. Listen first. Give your opponents a chance to talk. Let them finish. Do not resist, defend or debate. This only raises barriers. Try to build bridges of understanding. Don't build higher barriers of misunderstanding. Look for areas of agreement. When you have heard your opponents out, dwell first on the points and areas on which you agree. Be honest, Look for areas where you can admit error and say so. Apologize for your mistakes. It will help disarm your opponents and reduce defensiveness. Promise to think over your opponents' ideas and study them carefully. And mean it. Your opponents may be right. It is a lot easier at this stage to agree to think about their points than to move rapidly ahead and find yourself in a position where your opponents can say: "We tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen." Thank your opponents sincerely for their interest. Anyone who takes the time to disagree with you is interested in the same things you are. Think of them as people who really want to help you, and you may turn your opponents into friends. Postpone action to give both sides time to think through the problem. Suggest that a new meeting be held later that day or the next day, when all the facts may be brought to bear. In preparation for this meeting, ask yourself some hard questions: Could my opponents be right? Partly right? Is there truth or merit in their position or argument? Is my reaction one that will relieve the problem, or will it just relieve any frustration? Will my reaction drive my opponents further away or draw them closer to me? Will my reaction elevate the estimation good people have of me? Will I win or lose? What price will I have to pay if I win? If I am quiet about it, will the disagreement blow over? Is this difficult situation an opportunity for me? * Bits and Pieces, published by The Economics Press, Fairfield, N.J.

Some apologies are like the giving of a bomb that is about to explode as a peace offering.

My wife and I learned that if you ask yourself such a question, and you genuinely desire the answer (no matter how disgraceful and terrible and shameful), then a memory of something you did that was stupid and wrong at some point in the generally not-distant-enough past will arise from the depths of your mind. Then you can go back to your partner and reveal why you’re an idiot, and apologize (sincerely) and that person can do the same for you, and then apologize (sincerely), and then you two idiots will be able to talk again. Perhaps that is true prayer: the question, “What have I done wrong, and what can I do now to set things at least a little bit more right?” But your heart must be open to the terrible truth. You must be receptive to that which you do not want to hear. When you decide to learn about your faults, so that they can be rectified, you open a line of communication with the source of all revelatory thought. Maybe that’s the same thing as consulting your conscience. Maybe that’s the same thing, in some manner, as a discussion with God.

When apologizing to someone for your mistakes, try to reflect deeply upon on the actions that was unethical or immoral sincerely with regret, so he or she can forgive you.

If you have been looking down upon yourself, you do owe you a sincere apology.

When we sincerely apologize to those we have inadvertently offended, this process actually strengthens the relationship and often leads to improved mutual understanding. None of that applies to SJWs. They don't care how you feel, they don't care about your future behavior, they don't expect to have a future relationship with you, and there is absolutely no chance they are going to forgive you for anything. You are, after all, a dangerous thought-criminal.

Praise your body right now. Thank your body. If you have a liver problem, apologize to your liver for having overtaxed it selfishly without either care or thanks. Pledge to change your attitude and use your liver with sincere and deep gratitude. This applies to every bodily function, every internal or external organ, every artery or vein, every muscle or bone. If you continuously thank any part of your body, it will definitely respond.

Love that is transparent, that tells the truth. It has nothing to apologize for. Sincerity allows each of you a choice. The choice to live with each other's honesty or not. Love itself asks for nothing, it is people who always do.

One day Moses was walking in the mountains on his own when he saw a shepherd in the distance. The man was on his knees with his hands spread out to the sky, praying. Moses was delighted. But when he got closer, he was equally stunned to hear the shepherd’s prayer. “Oh, my beloved God, I love Thee more than Thou can know. I will do anything for Thee, just say the word. Even if Thou asked me to slaughter the fattest sheep in my flock in Thy name, I would do so without hesitation. Thou would roast it and put its tail fat in Thy rice to make it more tasty.” Moses inched toward the shepherd, listening attentively. “Afterward I would wash Thy feet and clean Thine ears and pick Thy lice for Thee. That is how much I love Thee.” Having heard enough, Moses interrupted the shepherd, yelling, “Stop, you ignorant man! What do you think you are doing? Do you think God eats rice? Do you think God has feet for you to wash? This is not prayer. It is sheer blasphemy.” Dazed and ashamed, the shepherd apologized repeatedly and promised to pray as decent people did. Moses taught him several prayers that afternoon. Then he went on his way, utterly pleased with himself. But that night Moses heard a voice. It was God’s. “Oh, Moses, what have you done? You scolded that poor shepherd and failed to realize how dear he was to Me. He might not be saying the right things in the right way, but he was sincere. His heart was pure and his intentions good. I was pleased with him. His words might have been blasphemy to your ears, but to Me they were sweet blasphemy.” Moses immediately understood his mistake. The next day, early in the morning, he went back to the mountains to see the shepherd. He found him praying again, except this time he was praying in the way he had been instructed. In his determination to get the prayer right, he was stammering, bereft of the excitement and passion of his earlier prayer. Regretting what he had done to him, Moses patted the shepherd’s back and said: “My friend, I was wrong. Please forgive me. Keep praying in your own way. That is more precious in God’s eyes.” The shepherd was astonished to hear this, but even deeper was his relief. Nevertheless, he did not want to go back to his old prayers. Neither did he abide by the formal prayers that Moses had taught him. He had now found a new way of communicating with God. Though satisfied and blessed in his naïve devotion, he was now past that stage—beyond his sweet blasphemy.

Phoenix He already Walked through my soul, it's where he learned to fly Now I'm getting used to being ignored in a purposeful way Although it hurts when my heart shakes out of solitude’s grace To find only a mirror willing to pull my embrace Sometimes a title is dragged through its whole story like an anchor the reader's mind uses to decode ashes in the strokes It places heavy crowns on delicate heads which form into it As frail necks hurt from not being allowed to swing away from your sight I've seen the rising from death by someone who truly thought they weren't coming back And I've seen love cast into chains unexpectedly in the simpler sense of the word To accept silence in response to sincere apologies To stand in pain at requests our hearts don't want to fulfill It's the issue we created by not separating our universes

When it comes to apologies, I think about that old saying, “You can be right or you can be happy.” I love being right, so sometimes it’s really freakin’ hard for me to apologize! It’s especially hard to say sorry if you feel that your intent was good and you didn’t mean to hurt your partner. But apologies are just so necessary in relationships. Nothing is more healing than hearing the words “I’m sorry” spoken with sincerity.

On your knees.” Rhiannon sucks in a breath, and Varrish hits his knees. “You have my most sincere apology—you and your dragon. Both of your dragons.

I gasp as Tairn’s massive fangs sink between the joints of Solas’s scales, piercing his neck, and Kaori sprints to get out of the battleground. Varrish turns and stiffens as crimson rivulets run over Solas’s orange neck scales, dripping off several of the ridges. “Tairn…” What will the Empyrean do to him if he kills Solas? “Only a rider can be the vice commandant of Basgiath,” Tairn warns, and Solas lets out a sound that’s half roar, half shriek. “Without a dragon, you are no rider.” Oh gods. My heart lurches, the beat rushing to a gallop. “Fine!” Varrish shouts, his fists balled at his side. “She will not pay a price for her dragon’s refusal to attend.” “Not good enough.” Tairn’s teeth reach the edges of Solas’s scales as I watch in slack-jawed horror. “This is about you.” Solas half roars, causing his blood to pour even faster down his exposed neck as he whips his tail toward Tairn, but he’s half Tairn’s size and has no hope of making contact, thank Dunne. “All right!” Varrish staggers forward, and for a second, I feel sorry for him. “All right,” he repeats, putting his hands up. “Humans have no authority to summon dragons.” Rhiannon sidesteps until her arm brushes my shoulder, and Feirge lowers her head, as do Aotrom and Sliseag. Hell, every dragon I can see in my peripherals takes the same stance. “Apologize,” Tairn demands, his voice low and sharp. “I’m sorry!” Varrish’s voice breaks. “Apologize to the one Andarna deemed worthy of her bond.” I try to swallow, but my mouth has gone dry. “Did he really just…” Rhiannon whispers. “I think so.” I nod. “His apology isn’t necessary to me, Tairn. Really. I’m happy to just not die today.” “It is necessary to me, Silver One.” His voice rumbles in my head. “I speak for Andarna while she is in the Dreamless Sleep.” Varrish pivots toward me, hatred and terror filling his gaze. “I am…sorry. It is not in my authority to summon any dragon.” “On your knees.” Rhiannon sucks in a breath, and Varrish hits his knees. “You have my most sincere apology—you and your dragon. Both of your dragons.” “I accept.” My gaze darts frantically to Tairn’s. “I accept!” I shout just in case he didn’t hear me mentally.

If you by chance know Greek mythology and are well versed in Latin, I sincerely apologize for this book. It won’t be accurate.

We all like to think that we’ll handle difficult times with clarity and perfection, but we’re all human. If someone has already disclosed to you and you’re realizing that you didn’t respond the way you would now that you know more about sexual assault, it’s not too late to tell them that you’re ready to be a strong support for them. Educating yourself, apologizing sincerely, and working to support them moving forward will go a long way.

If any of my mistakes have brought you stress or unhappiness, please accept my deepest apologies. It was unintentional. Again, thank you. Sincerely, Jacob

Sometime it's so hard to act strong , Iss dil ko bhi behlaana padta hai na, Chahe vo khud se khud ki baatein ho ya kisi ke yaadein , Phir se sawal yahi , Kya Ek aur saal barbaad kr diya , That's what I'm thinking tonight Unlike last year Ab toh khud se guftgu krne mein Dar sa lgta hai , Kahi un unjalon ko pta na lg jae , Ki Ye andhere se drta hai , Drta hai apni baatein kehne mein, Drta hai khawab bunnay mein , Drta hai umdein lgaane se, Hn kyu na daru jab log mein se mera me farq khoj lete hai, Yahan toh kamiyon ka pahaad hai , Jiske niche vo nadiyan meri maazi mera haal dikha rahi Anshu kyu na bahe jab glti bhi khud ki Kya he bolu! Mere lafzoon se kya he talaash karoge wazood mera , Mein itna likh nahi paata jita mehsoos krta hoon, Hn ab Ajib toh hu aaj bhi utna he aur wahi na thik se hsna aata, na rona na baatein krni aati ,na koi talent ,na sakal Bs hai kuch toh vo badi badi baatein Kitna bhi juth bol lu lekin sach yahi hai na ki mein khud se khud ko barbaad kr rha , Bahut kuch socha tha krne ko ,Ab agle saal kiya jaega ! Kisi ke pass nargis -e- sahir ho toh batana , Dil laagne aur behlaane mein kitna farq hota hai , Kitna farq hota hai ankhein nam aur rone mein , Kitna farq hota hai pasand aur mohabbat mein , Kitn farq hota hai dil laagne mein aur behlaane mein, Kitna farq hota hai uss akhir aur pehle khat mein, Farq toh hoga , But In 2024, I realize that my mistakes are opportunities for growth.Acceptance helps me strengthen my friendships, and I want to sincerely apologize for any hurt I may have caused, Bss un chutiyon ke alwa kisi ko kya pta Love you mfs In the end kisi ye Mein aur meri khamoshi Likhu kitna bhi mn kahan bharne wala Aakhir mein jab umdein phir se khud se laagni hai

A sincere apology has the power to save a friendship, a marriage, even a life. Just say sorry. That’s all you need to do.

One deep conversation and a sincere apology can heal so much, but many aren’t mature enough to understand the power of vulnerability.

Reconciliation requires systemic change. it is not about rote land acknowledgement, apologies, and carefully staged public relations events designed to give the impression of a sincere effort.

Unique Collection Of Sorry Gifts For Her To Express Your Heartfelt Emotions When words are not enough to heal misunderstandings, gifts become the perfect way to express your emotions. Apologizing with a thoughtful surprise not only makes your loved one feel special but also shows the depth of your sincerity. With Sorry Gifts for Her, you can convey your heartfelt emotions in the most beautiful and memorable way. In this blog, we’ll explore unique ideas for Sorry Gifts Online that will help you win back smiles and strengthen relationships. Why Choose Sorry Gifts for Her? Relationships are built on love, trust, and understanding. However, misunderstandings are a part of life. A simple “sorry” might not be enough, but pairing it with a meaningful gift can make a huge difference. Sorry Gifts for Girlfriend or even for your wife, sister, or friend can help express care, regret, and love in the most genuine manner. Thoughtful Sorry Gifts for Her 1. Elegant Flower Bouquets Fresh flowers are timeless messengers of emotions. A fragrant bouquet of roses, lilies, or carnations can instantly brighten her day and soften her heart. Sending Sorry Gifts Online like flower arrangements is a simple yet powerful way to apologize. 2. Personalized Gifts Nothing touches the heart like a personalized gift. From customized photo frames to engraved jewelry, these gifts remind her of the bond you share. Personalized Sorry Gifts for Girlfriend add an emotional value that words alone cannot express. 3. Luxury Chocolates and Hampers Sweet treats have the magic to mend broken moments. A box of luxury chocolates or a curated hamper filled with her favorite goodies can make for a thoughtful Sorry Gift for Him or Her. 4. Apology Cakes If you want to go grand, surprise her with a delicious cake that says “I’m Sorry.” Online cake delivery platforms like OyeGifts offer a wide range of flavors, making it easy to send an instant sweet apology. 5. Scented Candles and Spa Kits Gifts that promote relaxation can also be a wonderful choice. A spa kit or a set of scented candles helps her unwind while reminding her of your thoughtful gesture. How to Choose the Perfect Sorry Gift Online When selecting Sorry Gifts for Her, keep in mind: Personal Preferences: Pick something she loves—flowers, chocolates, or accessories. Emotional Value: A personalized touch always creates a deeper connection. Quick Delivery: Opt for Sorry Gifts Online that offer same-day or midnight delivery to make your apology more impactful. Why OyeGifts is the Best Choice for Sorry Gifts With a wide variety of Sorry Gifts for Girlfriend, Sorry Gifts for Him, and Sorry Gifts for Her, OyeGifts ensures you find something unique for every occasion. Their reliable same-day delivery service and high-quality gift options make apologizing heartfelt and memorable. Final Thoughts Apologies are not just about words—they’re about making the other person feel valued and loved. Thoughtful Sorry Gifts Online can turn a small misunderstanding into a stronger bond. Whether you’re looking for Sorry Gifts for Her, Sorry Gifts for Girlfriend, or Sorry Gifts for Him, OyeGifts brings you the best collection to express your feelings sincerely. Choose OyeGifts today and let your heartfelt emotions be beautifully conveyed through the perfect apology gift.

A simple but sincere apology.

It was the way he wouldn’t acknowledge I had a boyfriend. As if subconsciously he didn’t want me to move on, yet I hadn’t. I was standing in the same place just waiting for the utmost sincere apology. When it came, I had no idea what to do with it so I ran until I couldn’t run anymore; and here I am, a year later, still running. But at least I know it’s in the right direction.

How’d you like the game?” “It was intense.” She smirks at me. “I notice you didn’t score a goal, though. Slacking much?” My grin widens. “I sincerely apologize for that, Wellsy. I promise to do better next time.” “You’d better.

Offering a sincere apology is a mark of true character, no matter the form you take. A proper apology begins with accepting responsibility—no deflecting blame onto your animal instincts. Keep your apology simple and direct. Acknowledge the harm done, express genuine remorse, and, where possible, offer to make amends. Avoid over-explaining or making excuses—whether in human or animal form,

me express my deepest, most sincere apologies,” Frank said,

Well, I’m sorry I tried to help.” “Apology declined.” “I take it back then. It wasn’t sincere in the first place.” I narrow my eyes on her disobedient ones. If it were anyone else, I would’ve either fired or shot them for the insolence.

He rubbed the side of his face, using his left hand. No wedding ring, she noticed. But then there hadn’t been last time, either. He gave her a lopsided smile. “Sounds like you’re still a little angry.” “I’m not angry, O’Dell. Just really not interested in seeing you. Or talking to you. Or even breathing the same air as you.” His eyebrows went up. “That’s harsh.” Obviously not harsh enough because he didn’t leave. Instead he wandered to the display of chocolate letters and selected an “S.” For Sage? “ I owe you an apology,” he allowed. “Five years ago you owed me an apology. Now, you just need to walk out that door and let me go on pretending I never met you.” He sighed like she was the dolt in the classroom who just didn’t get it. “I did try to apologize. But you left town mighty fast.” Less than twenty-four hours after she crashed on that second barrel, her father had shown up in Casper, Wyoming and had whisked her home. But there had been time for Dawson to reach her. If he’d wanted to. That had been the last rodeo she’d ever competed in. And it had been the last time she’d let herself get tangled up with a cowboy, too. “Sage, even if it is a little late, I still want to say it. I was sorry then, and I’m sorry now.” Damn, if he didn’t look sincere. But she hardened her heart. Facts were facts and how sorry could he be if he’d waited so long to find her? Keeping her tone artificially sweet, she asked, “What exactly are you sorry for? Would