Quotes About Nostalgia

I grew up in the 1920s and 1930s in a nouveau riche world, where money was spent wildly, and I'm still living in one!... The private schools are all jammed with long waiting lists; the clubs -- all the old clubs -- are jammed with long waiting lists today; the harbors are clogged with yachts; there has never been a more material society than the one we live in today.... Where is this 'vanished world' they talk about? I don't think the critics have looked out the window!

Give me some more grog, dear friend; when I talk of the days of my youth my belly yearns for it, and I am not ashamed to beg.

Hij begreep niet waarom hij zoo oud moest worden, terwijl de dingen zoo langzaam voorbij gingen, stille voorbij, maar zóo slepend, als waren ze, de dingen van vroeger, spoken, die slierden heel lange sluiers langs heel lange paden, en als ritselden de sluiers over de warrelende bladeren, die neêrdwarrelden over het pad.

Jazz is my childhood.

I'm thinking about the cat dying, Dulcie and her knife against my throat, Mrs Irvin and her St Thomas bone... But never my sister. A brother rarely thinks about his sister.

En als de vliegers weg zijn dan is het droefste in uw leven dat ge zooveel menschen hebt gekend, en dat ge die nooit meer zult horen of zien.

En zij dacht aan hem zoals iemand na het onweer aan de bloempotten denkt, die buiten op de vensterbank stonden.

"Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents," grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.

You can take the girl out of the 80s, but you can't take the 80s out of the girl.

But childhood prolonged, cannot remain a fairyland. It becomes a hell.

Sometimes the past seemed like enough, in comparison with the disappointments of the present.

Three Pines wasn't on any tourist map, being too far off any main or even secondary road. Like Narnia, it was generally found unexpectedly and with a degree of surprise that such an elderly village should have been hiding in this valley all along. Anyone fortunate enough to find it once usually found their way back.

Like a first love, the place where peace is first found is never, ever forgotten.

Henri kept everything important in his heart. He mostly kept cookies in his head.

And fear. High school smelled of that more than anything else, even more than sweaty feet, cheap perfume and rotten bananas.

An unsuspected yearning uncovered, discovered. For a simpler time and a simpler life. Before Internet, and climate change, and terrorism. When neighbors worked together, and separation was not a topic or an issue or wise.

He read the familiar first lines of the book and felt the calm come over him, like a comforter.

Maybe every now and then he simply wept. Not in pain or sadness. The tears were just overwhelming memories, rendered into water, seeping out.

It was a perfect time of year, when late summer flowers were still blooming and the leaves were turning, and the grass was still green, but the nights were chilly and sweaters were out and fires were beginning to be lit. So that the hearths at night resembled the forests in the day, all giddy and bright and cheerful. Soon everyone would head back to the

It smelled of the past, of a time before computers, before information was "Googled" and "blogged." Before laptops and BlackBerries and all the other tools that mistook information for knowledge.

I sometimes think we're a rowboat society." "A what?" asked Jean. "A rowboat. It's why we do things like that." He jerked his head toward the window and the dot on the river. "It's why Québec is so perfectly preserved. It's why we're all so fascinated with history. We're in a rowboat. We move forward, but we're always looking back.

Je me souviens,

He sat quietly for a moment, lost in what was now and forever the past. The scene he described would never be repeated. That overheard sound would never be heard again.

He walked through the large apartment they'd bought in the Outremont quartier of Montreal when the children had been born and even though they'd long since moved out and were having children of their own now, the place never felt empty. It was enough to share it with Reine-Marie.