Quotes About Nostalgia

My soul is an empty carousel at sunset.

Each in the most hidden sack kept the lost jewels of memory, intense love, secret nights and permanent kisses, the fragment of public or private happiness. A few, the wolves, collected thighs, other men loved the dawn scratching mountain ranges or ice floes, locomotives, numbers. For me happiness was to share singing, praising, cursing, crying with a thousand eyes. I ask forgiveness for my bad ways: my life had no use on earth.

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.

Todo te lo tragaste, como la lejania, como el mar, como el tiempo... Ese fue mi destino y en el viajo mi anhelo, y en el mi anhelo, todo en ti fue naufragio! (You swallowed everything, like distance, like the sea, like time. This was my destiny and it was the voyage of my longing, in it my longing fell, in you everything sank.)

Cuando estamos lejos de la patria nunca la recordamos en sus inviernos. La distancia borra las penas del invierno, las poblaciones desamparadas, los niños descalzos en el frío. El arte del recuerdo sólo nos trae campiñas verdes, flores amarillas y rojas, el cielo azulado del himno nacional.

Saudade é amar um passado que ainda não passou. É recusar o presente que nos machuca. É não ver o futuro que nos convida...

It's well known that he who returns never left

I remember you with my soul clenched in that sadness of mine that you know.

Is there anything in the world sadder than a train standing in the rain?

What weighs more heavily on the belt, sadness or memories? Where is the child I was, still inside me or gone? Why did we spend so much time growing up only to separate? Was it where they lost me that I finally found myself?

Começarei por dizer, sobre os dias e anos de minha infância, que meu único personagem inesquecível foi a chuva.

I remembered you with my soul clenched in that sadness of mine that you know.

Dónde está el niño que yo fui, sigue dentro de mí o se fue? Sabe que no lo quise nunca y que tampoco me quería? Por qué anduvimos tanto tiempo creciendo para separarnos? Por qué no morimos los dos cuando mi infancia se murió? Y si el alma se me cayó por qué me sigue el esqueleto?

Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.

Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude, hour that is mine from among them all! Hunting horn through which the wind passes singing. Such a passion of weeping tied to my body.

The night is starry, and she is not with me. That is all.

Pamtim kakva si bila one posljednje jeseni..

As if you cope with loss by ingesting the dead person

I had him in my cab once. Who? Neville asked Rupert Brooke. He was good, him. There's some corner of a foreign field/ That is forever England. That would be the bit with my nose under it; just fucking drive, will you?

She was one of those Southerners who knew from an early age that the South could never be more for them than a fragrant prison, administered by a collective of loving but treacherous relatives.

We children sat transfixed before that moon our mother had called forth from the waters. When the moon had reached its deepest silver, my sister, Savannah, though only three, cried aloud to our mother, to Luke and me, to the river and the moon, Oh, Mama, do it again! And I had my earliest memory.

I was born in the age of alas.

We old athletes carry the disfigurements and markings of contests remembered only by us and no one else. Nothing is more lost than a forgotten game.

And each year, I lose a little bit more of what made me special as a kid. I don't think as much or question as much. I dare nothing. I put nothing on the line. Even my passions are now frayed and pathetic.