Quotes About Nostalgia

When I go back to my hometown, it's grown so much that I get lost. I never needed a map when I lived there, but now I couldn't get around without GPS.

As the past disappears, I keep getting lost.

You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.

Perfect happiness, even in memory, is not common.

It was for the sake of what had been, rather than what was.

Recuerde sólo en el pasado aquello que le sea grato.

The season, the scene, the air, were all favourable to tenderness and sentiment.

Ha de aprender mi filosofía. Del pasado no tiene usted que recordar más que lo placentero.

But remember that the pain of parting from friends will be felt by every body at times, whatever be their education or state.

It is not every one, said Elinor, who has your passion for dead leaves.

Whenever you are transplanted, like me, you will understand how very delightful it is to meet with anything at all like what one has left behind.

Piensa solo en el pasado cuando su recuerdo sea placentero.

Del pasado no tiene usted que recordar más que lo placentero

Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure

Ha de aprender mi filosofía. Del pasado no tiene usted que recordar más que lo placentero. –No

I love to be reminded of the past, Edward – whether it be melancholy or gay, I love to recall it.

Think only of the past as its remembrance gives your pleasure.

GândeÅŸte-te la trecut numai în m?sura în care amintirea lui îÅ£i aduce bucurie.

In lei rimaneva il ricordo di molte sensazioni di dolore, un tempo profondissimo, ma ora più mite; ricordi di rari barlumi di dolcezza, di momenti d'amicizia e di riconciliazione, che non poteva più aspettarsi di rivivere, ma che non avrebbero cessato d'esserle cari. Lasciava tutto questo alle sue spalle; tutto tranne il ricordo che quelle cose erano state

Sometimes, he thought, one should take a long, hard look at old friends. Like old clothes in a cupboard, there comes the moment to examine for moth. Perhaps throw them out and forget them. Yes.

It doesn't matter how many years go by, how grown-up we think we are, how much we presume we have changed or evolved, when we are back in our childhood homes, we become exactly who we have always been.

She can't explain why she is choked up. She isn't entirely sure, other than the sweetness of Patrick's familiarity, an aching nostalgia for her youth, a reminder of all that is good, and solid, and stable. All that she once had. All that she has lost. Patrick has grown into a big man. Solid. Imposing. His embrace is all-enveloping, tight, stable. Like being held by a bear. Safe, she thinks. I am safe. And almost immediately after: I have come home.

It just feels surreal. Every now and then it kind of hits me, but only for a short while, and then it carries on feeling like it didn't really happen, that he's going to walk in this evening and sit in front of the set drinking beer.

It doesn't matter how many years go by, how grown-up we think we are, how much we presume we have changed or evolved, when we are back in our childhood homes, we become exactly who we have always been