Quotes About Nostalgia

I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken - and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.

Perhaps - I want the old days back again and they'll never come back, and I am haunted by the memory of them and of the world falling about my ears.

I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken - and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.

I love watching Daddy play with Sara. I remember exactly how it felt to hold Daddy's hand when I was little. You could show me the hands of a thousand men and I could pick out my Daddy's, no problem.

People danced a lot then. I miss that.

The cork had come out with a ghost of a pop; it was a beautiful sound, regretful, grateful, kind. "There

When you go to her house, look round you. You'll find it full of knick-knacks, every single one of which has been treasured by someone.' He blinked and, lowering his head, looked at Picot with wide serious eyes. 'Whenever I see them they look to me like petrified morsels hacked out of living pain,' he said gravely.

With her heels kicking the stone's side high above the ground, Branza was a girl again, though she was full-grown long ago; though the years had accumulated behind her in their great pointless pile.

My grandson sees me as Lois on TV every Christmas, and that scores me points.

When the past is recaptured by the imagination, breath is put back into life.

For all dead loves and all remembered things. I have travelled through many seas.

I was willing to yield to nostalgia, that melancholy residue of desire.

Elle approchait et sa plume légère au chapeau d'ombre, se penchait sur moi m'effleurant la joue. (extrait de « La Dame au petit chien », p.161, revu par Alain Bosquet)

I took up the letter. On seeing the first line I knew it directly, but could not hold back from reading the whole thing, not once but many times, for it was the only love letter I had received in my life.

life is made up of memories. That your memories are the story of your past." He kissed the side of her face. "Someday this will be part of our past, too. A memory we made together.

She and Lilly and Jesse's grandmother, Rose, were inseparable when they were younger. The three blossoms, people called them. Lilly, Rose, and Violet." Ellie smiled. "I love that. I love the old-fashioned names.

Oh, here. Here's the record player." Barney lifted a light-blue and white case from one of the eaves. She set it on a trunk and unlatched the lid. "Ever see one of these?" She held up a small plastic disklike thing. Cara and Allie both shook their heads. "This is an insert that you'd put inside one of the forty-five singles so they'd play.

The Everly Brothers. 'Bye Bye Love.

Nimiedades que servían para recordarle que antaño había existido el mundo exterior y que el presente era mucho más que el ayer y sus papeles amarillentos, su tinta parda y esos mapas que se desintegraban al desplegarlos.

Initially, I began writing myself into my favorite shows. I was a detective on 77 Sunset Strip, the missing Cartwright sibling they never talked about on Bonanza, and the Girl from U.N.C.L.E. before there was a Girl from U.N.C.L.E., not to mention an active participant in the serialized stories on The Mickey Mouse Club.

imagine that it were given back to me to be the child who knew departure would be sweet, the boy who drew square-rigged ships, the girl who knew truck routes from ottawa to mexico, the me who found a door in latin verse and made a map out of hexameters.

The last taste of sweets is sweetest last.

I come from a family where gravy is considered a beverage.

The smell of good bread baking, like the sound of lightly flowing water, is indescribable in its evocation of innocence and delight