Quotes About Nostalgia

He stared at her the way he used to in the days of their youth, his eyes lit with open yearning.

Beneath the conversations and silences and reconnecting intimacy, I tried to reconcile the adult Hardy had become with the boy I had known and longed for. It troubled me to realize they weren't the same...but of course I wasn't the same either.

After a long moment, he heard his mother say ruefully, "Sometimes I miss the days when I could solve any of my children's problems with a nap and a biscuit.

Milady," she said quietly, "I hardly recognize ye." Holly's smile wavered, and she took a deep breath. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing, Maude? What would my husband have said, if he had ever seen me like this?" "I think Master George would have loved to see ye in that red gown," Maude replied thoughtfully. "He was a man, after all.

The last time they had been together, they'd waltzed in a winter garden. Now, they were de-lousing a pestilent street urchin.

It's always good to go home.

If I felt at times undersupervised, it was this same freedom that stands out as one of the pleasures of my childhood

1809If I felt at times under-supervised, it was this same freedom that stands out as one of the pleasures of my childhood.

chicken pot pie, the crust shattering under the fork,

If I felt at times undersuprvised, it was this same freedom that stands out as one of the pleasures of my childhood.

The sun is setting when I arrive back at Accent Collectibles

I remember lost loves, and loves that never were.

That's really nice." I picture my mother and my aunt, a little over four years apart in age, curled up in the same bed, sharing innocent games of Let's Pretend. It makes the present situation seem that much sadder. Should geography and real estate signs outweigh the bonds formed by the shared milestones of childhood?

How wonderful the days when all was well. How necessary, also, that we must release them now. It is fine enough to glance at the past, but one must never focus there overlong. Don't you think?

Time passes... but memories do not.

The best times of my life, the times that passed by me the most quickly, were the times when the roses grew wild.

Nothing takes you from thirty years old to thirteen faster than your mother's voice rebounding up the stairs like a tennis ball after a forehand slice.

By taking me back, Arney brought me forward. I told her that in my reply.

No matter who else passed through my life, no one would take the place of my brother. He would always be the only one with whom I shared the quiet beginnings of life, the awkwardness of growing up, the secret hiding places of childhood, the early hours of Christmas mornings waiting for Santa Claus, the arguments over space in the backseat of a car, the walk to school on the first day, and the rough times after things didn't go so well.

I tried to make sense of what she'd said. "A Sears house. . . . You know, I think this was a Sears Catalog house. I'd forgotten all about that, but I recall Aunt Ruth talking about Poppy ordering the house, and a railcar delivering it in pieces." "Yes!" Hanna Beth smiled. "I remem

We used to sit up on the roof with the couple from across the hall and play records and dance?' I sighed, wondering how we had come so far up in income and so far down in the things that really mattered.

were the times when the roses grew wild.

Scenic Route Someone was always leaving and never coming back. The wooden houses wait like old wives along this road; they are everywhere, abandoned, leaning, turning gray. Someone always traded the lonely beauty of hemlock and stony lakeshore for survival, packed up his life and drove off to the city. In the yards the apple trees keep hanging on, but the fruit grows smaller year by year...

Someone was always leaving and never coming back. The wooden houses wait like old wives along this road; they are everywhere, abandoned, leaning, turning gray.