Quotes About Nostalgia

When I was four years old, my mother owned some tenements in the Bronx.

What a different world it was when I first sailed for Europe in 1930, with my mother, sister, and brother to spend six months abroad.

I remember my mother had this deck of cards that her mother had given her and that she passed on to me. It was a gypsy tarot deck that I used to carry everywhere.

It was no great tragedy being Judy Garland's daughter. I had tremendously interesting childhood years - except they had little to do with being a child.

The first snowball I froze was put in my mother's deep freeze when I was in my early 20s.

Don't let's go to the dogs tonight, For mother will be there.

When I was a kid, for my birthday every year, my mother made me pasta bechamel, which is rigatoni with a white cream sauce.

I grew up in the kitchen, mostly with my grandfather, my mother and my aunt Raffy.

Cooking certain dishes, like roast pork, reminds me of my mother.

Every day my mother had tea. My dad has his ritual cigar. They had their evening cocktail. Those rituals were done nicely, with flair and feeling.

My mothers into frilly dresses and eyelashes and hairstyles from the 1970s. We always argue about that.

I don't know what it is about food your mother makes for you, especially when it's something that anyone can make - pancakes, meat loaf, tuna salad - but it carries a certain taste of memory.

There is nothing in the world of art like the songs mother used to sing.

I had a very normal childhood, and my mother cooked very normal food.

Not so cold, some snow fell. I went inside the log cabin and said goodbye to Mother, she was so alike grandmother, just younger.

My mother used to take my brother and me to get any books we wanted, but they were second hand books published in the '30s and '40s. I liked scary books.

I had this whole ritual with my mother making the bed with me inside it so I would be invisible.

As a child, our house had a backyard lined with roses tended vigilantly by my mother. So the fragrance fills me with nostalgia for my youth.

I never saw any of my dad's stories. My mother said he had piles and piles of manuscripts.

The sharpest memory of our old-fashioned Christmas eve is my mother's hand making sure I was settled in bed.

The boy and girl going hand in hand through a meadow; the mother washing her baby; the sweet simple things in life. We have almost lost track of them.

I've been going through photos of my mother, looking back on her life and trying to put it into context. Very few people age gracefully enough to be photographed through their aging.

I used to love to play dress-up, where you get your mother's or your grandmother's dresses and high heels.

I was always singing and dancing for my mother when I wasn't glued to the television watching I Love Lucy or the Carol Burnett Show.