Quotes About Nostalgia

opening the book, i inhaled. the smell of old books, so sharp, so dry you can taste it.

I have always been a reader; I have read at every stage of my life and there has never been a time when reading was not my greatest joy. And yet I cannot pretend that the reading I have done in my adult years matches in its impact on my soul the reading I did as a child. I still believe in stories. I still forget myself when I am in the middle of a good book. Yet it is not the same.

He would go to the bakery for a cake, and somewhere in the shop-I had never discovered where; it was one of the few secrets I had not fathomed-he kept a candle, which came out on this day every year, was lit, and which I blew out, with as good an impression of happiness as I could muster. Then we ate the cake, with tea, and settled down to quiet digestion and cataloging.

The end of my nine o'clocks was another anchor in time gone.

Pigs were funny creatures. You could almost think they were human the way they looked at you sometimes. Or was the pig remembering something? Yes, she realized, that was it. The pig looked exactly as if she were recollecting some happiness now lost, so that joy remembered was overlaid with present sorrow.

He saw her not here in this room and not now in this hour but in the infinity of memory.

I cannot pretend that the reading I have done in my adult years matches in its impact on my soul the reading I did as a child.

The cat, I remember.

I have always been a reader; I have read at every stage of my life and there has never been a time when reading was not my greatest joy. And yet I cannot pretend that the reading I have done in my adult years matches in its impact on my soul the reading I did as a child.

He was the first of my ghosts.

When I was a child, books were everything. And so there is in me, always, a nostalgic yearning for the lost pleasure of books. It is not a yearning that one ever expects to be fulfilled. And during this time, these days when I read all day and half the night, when I slept under a counterpane strewn with books, when my sleep was black and dreamless and passed in a flash and I woke to read again—the lost joys of reading returned to me.

No hay una vieja casa que no tenga sus historias; no existe una vieja casa que no tenga sus fantasmas.

And yet I cannot pretend that the reading I have done in my adult years matches in its impact on my soul the reading I did as a child.

The pleasure of sitting down to a good meal is not limited to just eating what's set in front of you. It can also be about the sensations or memories associated with it.

On the day I left, when I gave her a gold bracelet, she kissed me and told me not to come back, as things were never as good the second time. She was God's gift to bachelors, that girl.

The only good thing about the good old days is they're gone.

I am not nostalgic. Belonging does not interest me. I had once thought that it did. Until I examined the underpinnings. One is mislead when one looks at the sails and majesty of tall ships instead of their cargo.

I am not nostalgic for a country which doesn't yet exist on a map." [...] I am not nostalgic. Belonging does not interest me. I had once thought that it did. Until I examined the underpinnings. One is mislead when on looks at the sails and majesty of tall ships instead of their cargo.

thanks to mommy and match-box cars, thanks for dad and to the stars.

Still, looking through the old volumes was soothing, because thinking of the past made the present seem a little less real.

Oh, comfortable cocoa!

While I have been writing I have lived in the past, the light of it has been all around me...

All I really want to write about is what happened just before he left. But if I let myself start with that I might forget some of the things which came first. And every word he said is of deepest value to me.

There's nothing more, except that I usually sit down until the flames die down and try to think myself back into the past.