Quotes About Nostalgia

Ama seni gördüm ve yüreÄŸim s?zlad?. Bunu asla unutmad?m.

And I saw a little girl, her eyes tightly closed, holding to her breast the old kind world, one that she knew in her heart could not remain, and she was holding it and pleading, never to let her go.

Çöpleri, dallara tak?lm?? sallanan naylon parçalar?n?, tel örgüye tak?lm?? tuhaf ÅŸeylerin oluÅŸturduÄŸu hatt? düÅŸünüyordum ve gözlerimi k?s?p çocukluÄŸumdan bu yana kaybettiÄŸim her ÅŸeyin buraya sürüklendiÄŸini hayal ettim, ÅŸimdi burada, hepsinin önünde duruyordum ve yeterince beklersem, tarlalar?n ötesinde, ufuk hatt?nda ufac?k bir figür belirecekti.

What made the tape so special for me was this one particular song: track number three, "Never Let Me Go.

What was important to us, as Ruth said one evening when we were sitting in that tiled room in Dover, looking out at the sunset, was that "when we lost something precious, and we'd looked and looked and still couldn't find it, then we didn't have to be completely heartbroken. We still had that last bit of comfort, thinking one day, when we were grown up, and we were free to travel around the country, we could always go and find it again in Norfolk.

And I tried to imagine how I would feel if Rosa and I, a long time from now, long after we'd found our different homes, saw each other again by chance on a street. Would I then feel, as Manager had put it, pain alongside my happiness? *

But you play that passage like it's the memory of love. You're so young, and yet you know desertion, abandonment. That's why you play that third movement the way you do. Most cellists, they play it with joy. But for you, it's not about joy, it's about the memory of a joyful time that's gone for ever.

I wonder if what we feel in our hearts today isn't like these raindrops still falling on us from the soaked leaves above, even though the sky itself long stopped raining. I'm wondering if without our memories, there's nothing for it but for our love to fade and die.

Ein Mensch kann irgendwo arbeiten und seine Steuern zahlen, aber am Ende will er dorthin zurück, wo er aufwachsen ist

But it was not so much the content of our conversation as the little smiles she gave at the end of utterances, her small ironic inflections here and there, certain gestures with her shoulders or her hands, which began to recall unmistakably the rhythms and habits of our conversations from all those years ago.

I do, Axl. But then again I wonder if what we feel in our hearts today isn't like these raindrops still falling on us from the soaked leaves above, even though the sky itself long stopped raining. I'm wondering if without our memories, there's nothing for it but for our love to fade and die.

Cómo los amigos del alma de hoy son mañana personas extrañas perdidas, dispersas por Europa, que tocan el tema de El padrino o «Las hojas muertas» en plazas y cafés que no visitaremos nunca.

this as a pleasing testimony to the strength of the close working relationship we had once had. For a little while after that, I recall, Miss Kenton went on talking more generally about her husband, who is to retire soon, a little early on account of poor health, and of her daughter, who is now married and expecting a child in the autumn. In fact, Miss Kenton gave me her daughter's address in Dorset, and I must say, I was rather flattered to

I felt mildly peculiar to be treasuring love letters for their grammar, but there was nothing else I could treasure them for.

I'm sick of this. It's like being twelve again, dealing with all this damned drama. I like her. Does she like me? What if she doesn't like me?

Take this. It's one of my gothics. The seventies were, sadly, not the time to include sex scenes of any satisfying nature. When the lights go out, you can imagine the hero and heroine are lying in bed, fully clothed, making shadow puppets on the wall.

I even pulled out the can of cat treats. Yes, I'd bought him treats. Give it another month and I'd be collecting his shed whiskers and claws like a proud momma preserving her baby's first haircut and lost teeth.

I held you, or I never held you, or I held you briefly, once, long ago, and you kissed me while my heart kept time. — Kelly Cherry, from "First Marriage," When She Named Fire: An Anthology of Contemporary Poetry by American Women (Autumn House Press, 2008)

Batu said, "The All-Night is a great place to raise a family. Everything you need, right here. Diapers, Vienna sausages, grape-scented Magic Markers, Moon Pies—kids like Moon Pies—and then one day, when they're tall enough, we teach them how to operate the register.

It was the first time he'd ever had a reason to send out Christmas cards, and it had been difficult, finding the right things to say in them, especially since they probably weren't his father, no matter what his mother thought. Not all of them, anyway.

He missed two people: a) the girl she was; b) the person she'd made him feel he might have been. A deep sigh escaped him.

Ethel said: Lloyd, there's someone here you may remember- Daisy could not restrain herself. She ran to Lloyd and threw herself into his arms. She hugged him. She looked into his green eyes, then kissed his brown cheeks and his broken nose and then his mouth. I love you, Lloyd, she sad madly. I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you, too, Daisy, he said. Behind her, Daisy heard Ethel's wry voice. You do remember, I see.

All his life he would cherish the memory of an endless caravan of camels alongside the railway line, the laden beasts plodding patiently through the snow, ignoring the twentieth century as it hurtled past them in a clash of iron and a shriek of steam.

Los buenos tiempos se van para no volver nunca más.