Quotes About Nostalgia

Think of your woods and orchards without birds! Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beams As in an idiot's brain remembered words Hang empty 'mid the cobwebs of his dreams!

Burn, O evening hearth, and waken Pleasant visions, as of old! Though the house by winds be shaken, Safe I keep this room of gold!

My memory of my mom is a wine glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She was a runway fashion model, and she was quite a glamorous woman.

Belle]'d fallen in love with him at fifteen, galloping down clay roads with the leaves of autumn swirling around them. They'd discovered the nooks and crannies of passion in his mother's darkened parlor on a rolling sea of dark wine velvet, amid a flotilla of lacy white antimacassars...

The 'good old times' - all times when old are good.

Bricks without straw are more easily made than imagination without memories.

It's good to remember where you've been.

My happiest childhood memories are of times in our backyard. My mother had an old clothesline that hung out in front. It seemed like it stretched a mile long, and I loved sitting in the sun while she hung clothes.

Jeffs Bagel Run bagels taste like the definition of what a bagel meant to me growing up."

The sleepless nights,The daily fights,The quick toboggan when you reach the heights—I miss the kisses and I miss the bites.I wish I were in love again!

It was our special night and we held it for as long as we could. It was something that belonged to us. A night that would be added to our long list of memories. It was our happy ending. And it was the last time we would ever be together again.

She prefers to just return home to a sparkling-clean house and believe the house fairies have been there. That's what her mom always called the cleaning service when Daisy was little. House fairies.

He'd forget all that, just as he would forget this night. The memories would linger for a time, but they'd grow dull. The ache he felt now, the frustation and anger and sorrow - all those would fade too. She'd given him a night to remember, but of course he'd forget.

Do you remember little Zoe Octavia Lexham?' he said. His aunt cast her pale blue gaze in the direction of the great chandelier, as though that was where she kept her memory. 'Zoe Octavia,' she said.

E pensou o mesmo naquele momento, porque os sentimentos perturbadores permaneciam ali, sob o bolso do peito do colete, onde ele guardava um toco de lápis que ela havia deixado para trás na noite anterior.

no memory, no desire.

She is the keeper of all these names and numbers now, numbers she once knew by heart, numbers and addresses her children no longer remember.

For old times' sake.

day when we were young and lovely.

We used to all come outside when the streetlights came on and prowl the neighborhood in a pack, a herd of kids on banana-seat bikes and minibikes. The grown-ups looked so silly framed in their living-room and kitchen windows. They complained about their days and sighed deep sighs of depression and loss. They talked about how spoiled and lucky children were these days. We will never be that way, we said, we will never say those things.

I am homesick and I am timesick . . . I miss all that no longer is, Lil says.

It was 1965 and life seemed easier. Her parents were alive and so was her brother, her bones were hard and strong and her vision perfect....It was 1965 and she was filled with hope, lush pots of ivy spilling from her window boxes as she leaned out late in the day to see the sunset, to smell the river, to watch her husband turn the corner as he headed home. She was so alive.

Of all her childhood memories, her favorite was never having to pay bills.

Nothing wrong with holding on to good memories, he said quietly. I've held on to mine.