Quotes About Nostalgia

Even the good memories can hurt when you miss someone bad enough.

I don't miss the relationship, I miss the companionship.

I miss him, his tight hugs and long sweet kisses. The kind of kisses that I never wanted to end. I miss his hands on my hips and him rubbing my back without being asked. I miss the long nights laying on his chest while he played with my hair. I miss him being pressed against me while he kisssed my neck because he knew it gave me butterflies. But that was the past and he moved on, and now I need to find a new man to love like I did with the man that I still miss today.

Miss the memories, the laughter, and the love we use to make.

When somebody loved me, everything was beautiful. Every hour we spent together lives within my heart.

I miss everything about you...I can't believe that I still want you. After all the things we've been through. I miss everything about you. Without you...

Months or years may pass without talking to someone but it's crazy how many minutes in everyday that passes that they enter our mind at some point. Their laugh, their smile, their voice, the small shared moments, ones we will never forget and all because they were someone we truly loved so our heart remains silent because of no ears but forever strong for the one we truly loved as the minutes turn to hours, the days turn to months and the months turn to years.

It was a once upon a time world that used to be.

These were the places that Ama described in her stories, places where all the children of the tribe would be princes and princesses and their stomachs always full. It was a once-upon-a-time world that used to be. In

A real kiss," he said. "That's what I needed, just one more time.

As he sat in the deep embrasure of a mullioned window, talking to my lady, his mind wandered away to shady Figtree Court, and he thought of poor George Talboys smoking his solitary cigar in the room with the birds and canaries.

I will be sad. I've gotten very attached to Harry and all that goes on in his world, I guess I'll just be kind of tasting every bit of it because it will be the last one.

We weep for what we may never lose

What one loves in childhood stays in the heart forever.

Children often sang, adults seldom. At what age did the singing stop?

she felt the past come rushing back with a ferocity that nearly knocked her down. And it struck her, this was not just a flare-up she was experiencing, not just a bout of spring fever. This was full-blown passion.

I smoothed my grandmother's starched white damask cloth over the battered pine harvest table in the dining room, and with my fingertips, traced the tiny patches where she'd so painstakingly mended it. If I looked closely, and I did, I could see the faintest ghost outlines of stains from family dinners long ago.

That last stretch of the journey from Toronto to Crow Lake always takes me by the throat. Partly it's the familiarity; I know every tree, every rock, every boggy bit of marshland so well, that even though I almost always arrive after dark I can feel them around me, lying there in the darkness as if they were my own bones.

Janie gave me a pen. Mrs. Tadworth gave me a doll. Matt

Memory is a funny thing sometimes.

Homily would renew it at intervals when it became available upstairs, but since Aunt Sophy

We started off, he and I, and the girl between us. She shivered as the cold struck her; he pulled the sheepskins higher, and put his arm with a fold of his cloak about her shoulders. I felt a sudden rush of the past upon me; for a moment grief pierced me like a winter night; yet it came to me like an old grief, I had suffered it long since and now it was behind me.

The world's full of people grieving for somebody they cared about. It's sheer sentimentality to worry about the ones we don't.

You can figure out who you were by which movies you loved when.