Quotes About Nostalgia

The beauty of today may not be realised until it becomes tomorrow's memory

Those interested in perpetuating present conditions are always in tears about the marvelous past that is about to disappear without having so much as a smile for the young future.

It was very pleasant to savor its aroma, for smells have the power to evoke the past, bringing back sounds and even other smells that have no match in the present. -Tita

. . . the companions of our childhood always possess a certain power over our minds which hardly any later friend can obtain.

Authorities! Permits! Insurance! How I yearn for the days when a man could just bust loose, tear around and get what needs to be done, done.

Things ain't what they used to be and probably never was.

Things aren't what they used to be and probably never were.

You can truly miss characters. Not like you miss people, but you can still miss them.

You can truly miss characters. Not like you miss people, but you can still miss them. I don't think I'll ever get over Melanie's death in Gone With the Wind. But I'm still so glad I got to know her.

even the stay-at-home mothers subjected their kids to a kind of benign neglect back then.

Almost all the earliest conversations I remember with my parents were about books:

The book was thick and red. It was almost thicker than it was wide, a thickness that somehow enhanced its bookishness. It was - to me aged 12 - quite clearly more of a book than most, if not all, of the paperbacks untidily stacked on the shelves of my father's study.

If you would ask my mom what books I liked growing up, I liked Dr. Seuss.

Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again.

Whatever we had missed, we possessed together the precious, the incommunicable past.

When we look back, the only things we cherish are those which in some way met our original want; the desire which formed in us in early youth, undirected, and of its own accord.

I suppose there were moonless nights and dark ones with but a silver shaving and pale stars in the sky, but I remember them all as flooded with the rich indolence of a full moon.

She was married to Jack before she married my father." "Correct." "But she later divorced Jack and married my father." "Also correct." "And you all lived together?" She waved her hand in the air. "It was another time. Have a seat.

A corollary to this idea is that the past, which people are likely to idealize during an ending

When you are old and gray and full of sleep,And nodding by the fire, take down this book.

Away with us he's going, The solemn-eyed: He'll hear no more the lowing Of the calves on the warm hillside Or the kettle on the hob Sing peace into his breast, Or see the brown mice bob Round and round the oatmeal chest. For he comes, the human child, To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.

How often have I lain beneath rain on a strange roof, thinking of home.

No wreaths please—especially no hothouse flowers.Some common memento is better,something he prized and is known by:his old clothes—a few books perhaps.

I did J.E.S.T. here when I was with the First