Quotes About Nostalgia

yorgun gözlerimi kapay?p çevremdeki dünyay?, tepemdeki güneÅŸi unuttum. Onun bana geri gelmesini bekledim. Ah, sevgilim! Sevgilim! Art?k sana içimi dökebilirim! Sanki daha dün ayr?lm???z gibi, sanki daha dün senin o güzel elin elimdeydi, sanki en son dün görmüÅŸtüm seni. Sevgilim! Sevgilim!

Quando tutto ti ricorda qualche altro posto è segno che stai viaggiando da troppo tempo.

Tea chests full of the rotting correspondence of the parents Busner had never know, their serrated postcards, their now blotched but once creamy notepaper folded into thick envelopes that had been extravagantly franked and stamped. All of it he had foreseen himself unpacking, unsheathing and unfolding, so that the pressed flowers bloomed into dust as he read the missives for the first time since their long-gone recipients set the sheets to one side.

Whereas we, the dead, are the true inheritors of the Modern. The live lot assemble time into lazy decadences--ten-year periods of conspicuous attitudinising, which are only ever grasped in nostalgic retrospect.

To a bibliophile, there is but one thing better than a box of new books, and that is a box of old ones.

And then you're old, and your life is like a book you read too quickly. All you can remember are a few scattered images and random thoughts. No sense of the whole.

Such, such were the joys When we all -- girls and boys -- In our youth-time were seen On the echoing Green.

When I think of my youth, he went in, what we took for granted, what we assumed was for ever certain, for ever permanent.

Low-ceilinged and smoke-foxed, it had a curious smell: part beer, part cold fireplace ash, part pipe tobacco.

Nicolson described the great aviator thus: 'he is and always will be not only a schoolboy hero, but a schoolboy.' It explains a great deal.

In hours of bliss we oft have met: They could not always last; And though the present I regret, I'm grateful for the past.

Who gathers the withered rose?

When I was a boy I first learned how much better water tastes when it has set a while in a cedar bucket. Warmish-cool, with a faint taste like the hot July wind in Cedar trees smells.

When I was little there was a picture in one of our books, a dark place into which a single weak ray of light came slanting upon two faces lifted out of the shadow.

Why yes he thought it ain't a place a man wants to go back to; the place dont even need to be there no more. What aches a man to go back to is what he remembers. from... THE MANSION page 106

All the past is not a diminishing road but, instead, a huge meadow which no winter ever quite touches, divided from them now by the narrow bottle-neck of the most recent decade of years.

Caddy olía como los árboles cuando llueve y como cuando ella dice que estamos dormidos.

and the very old men--some in their brushed Confederate uniforms--on the porch and the lawn, talking of Miss Emily as if she had been a contemporary of theirs, believing that they had danced with her and courted her perhaps, confusing time with its mathematical progression, as the old do, to whom all the past is not a diminishing road but, instead, a huge meadow which no winter ever quite touches, divided from them now by the narrow bottleneck of the most recent decade of years.

confusing time with its mathematical progression, as the old do, to whom all the past is not a diminishing road but, instead, a huge meadow which no winter ever touches.

the very old men [...] believing that they had danced with her and courted her perhaps, confusing time with its mathematical progression, as the old do, to whom all the past is not a diminishing road but, instead, a huge meadow which no winter ever quite touches, divided from them now by the narrow bottle-neck of the most recent decade of years.

the air thin and eager like this, with something in it sad and nostalgic and familiar.

here it is it was right here all the time was it come on I got up and followed we went up the hill the crickets hushing before us its funny how you can sit down and drop something and have to hunt all around for it the gray it was gray with dew slanting up into the gray sky then the trees beyond damn that honeysuckle I wish it would stop you used to like it we

Ze sÅ'uchawkÄ… w rÄ™ce patrzyÅ' na drzwi, przez które wpadaÅ' ten bÅ'Ä™dny i dra?niÄ…cy powiew. ZaczÄ…Å' cytowa? coÅ› z jakiejÅ› dawno czytanej ksi??ki: "Spokoju coraz mniej! Spokoju coraz mniej!

Then she too seemed to blow out of his life on the long wind like a third scrap of paper.