Quotes About Nostalgia

Sometimes you can't really tell when you are happy until it is over and you are thinking about it later

I am certain that over the course of your own life, you have noticed that people's rooms reflect their personalities. In my room, for instance, I have gathered a collection of objects that are important to me, including a dusty accordion on which I can play a few sad songs, a large bundle of notes on the activities of the Baudelaire orphans, and a blurry photograph, taken a very long time ago, of a woman whose name is Beatrice. These are items that are very precious and dear to me.

But sometimes it takes only a photograph and a sentence to make an author cry himself to sleep even years after the photograph was taken.

It's hard when you're missing your family. You wake up every morning like someone took one of your legs.

It is the things that have a history, L. Compared to them we are ghosts.

The Baudelaires were sad to see a framed photograph of a kind-looking man with a handful of crackers in one hand and his lips pursed as if he were whistling. It was Ike, and the Baudelaires knew that she had placed his photograph there because she was too sad to look at it.

There are so many objects that I find that I have forgotten about until they are in my hands again, and they remind me of times in my life I had otherwise forgotten, the way you will visit a place you think is new and then something, a sound or smell or some tiny detail, will make you realize it is familiar after all.

It is why a favorite book feels like an old friend and a new acquittance at the same time, and the reason a favorite author can be familiar figure and a mysterious stranger all at once.

The Hemlock Tearoom and Stationery

When you think of me," she said quietly, "think of a food you love very much.

cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and as he talked to the children he looked at them through the rearview mirror.

It's hard when you're missing your family," Pip said, and started up the motor. "You wake up every morning like someone took one of your legs.

It is always sad when someone leaves home, unless they are simply going around the corner and will return in a few minutes with ice-cream sandwiches.

It's easy to forgive the summer rain; like first love, white lies or blarney, there's no malignity in it.

Did you ever say hello to a girl you almost married long ago? Did she smile the same captivating smile, and give your arm a hug in a gesture you'd almost forgotten? Did the wrinkles as she smiled make you wonder what marvellous times you'd missed? That's how I felt about Berlin every time I came back here.

It's just natural, it's not a great disaster. People keep talking about it like it's The End of The Earth. It's only a rock group that split up, it's nothing important. You know, you have all the old records there if you want to reminisce.

Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about Strawberry Fields forever

There are places I remember All my life though some have changed Some forever not for better Some have gone and some remain

You don't remember the times your dad held your handle bars. You remember the day he let go.

To this day I cannot see a bright daffodil, a proud gladiola, or a smooth eggplant without thinking of Papa. Like his plants and trees, I grew up as a part of his garden.

July 29, 1949 letter to Truman Capote, in Tangiers, Morocco) You have probably never received those delicious epistles which I never wrote—let alone sent. But there you are selling grain in the marketplace with little Jane [Bowles]—and now both of you adored by Berbers and strange wide-eyed men such as have never adored me. When are you coming home to your sweet old bald-head mom?

Ah, se se pudesse arrancar o passado com as suas raízes! É impossível, infelizmente, mas pelo menos pode-se fingir esquecer

How strange it is that when I was a child I tried to be like a grownup, yet as soon as I ceased to be a child I often longed to be like one.

Why do we begin to forget, then sometimes remember with such clarity people we've lost?