I have quite a house. People come over and I go, 'I know, I'm sorry.'
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
'But I don't want to go among mad people,' said Alice. 'Oh, you can't help that,' said the cat. 'We're all mad here.'
I've always found it hard to say sorry.
I am a simple man who comes from a village, and villagers like us speak our mind. Now, in the process, if unknowingly my words came across as disrespectful or insulting, then I am deeply sorry. I don't want to hurt anyone.
Next door, there's an old man who lived to his nineties and one day passed away in his sleep. And his wife, she stayed for a couple of days and passed away. I'm sorry, I know that's a strange way to tell you that I know we belong.
People ask me where I go to get away, and I say 'Home.'
I'll talk to kids afterward and somebody will always say, 'I'll leave my bedroom window open for you.
I did things like get in a cupboard before the teacher came in at the beginning of a lesson, and then, two minutes before the end of the class, I come out of the cupboard and go, 'Sorry I'm late.'
It's very hard for me to say I'm sorry... but I do.
The only thing I can talk about is just forgiving yourself, because I do not have everything together. And so I tell people: No, you should see my house, it's a mess.
I live in this apartment building, and everybody who lives there thinks of me as a housewife. People drop their babies off with me. Or I get notes: 'I'm going to be gone for three days. The keys are under the mat; take care of the cats.' Because they all think I'm home all the time.