Quotes About Nostalgia

I remember the sights and sounds and smells of home because the memory of home is the thing that never leaves us.

Se joac? aerul de-a amintirea: duce cu el toate zgomotele ?i las?-n urm? numai oglinzi de t?cere s? ne putem privi anii ce s-au dus.

It was not that he didn't remember he once had another sort of life. But, like the old yellowing photograph at home, which he did not burn, it was sad to think about, and far away, like another world that had disappeared forever.

You're convinced everything would be fine if we lived together. If only we could. But you live in a world I don't recognize. What a halcyon glow our childhood must have for you.

No deberíamos haber crecido. Si hubiéramos sabido que ser un adulto es tan aburrido, habríamos jugado mucho más de pequeñas.

They may be nothing more than scraps of paper, but they capture something profound. Light and wind and air, the tenderness or joy of the photographer, the bashfulness or pleasure of the subject. You have to guard these things forever in your heart. That's why photographs are taken in the first place.

I'm sure it must have been even more wonderful then, when we were young and knew nothing about the pain of growing up.

Ribbon, bell, emerald, stamp. The words that came from my mother's mouth thrilled me, like the names of little girls from distant countries or new species of plants. As I listened to her talk, it made me happy to imagine a time when all these things had a place here on the island.

you read a novel to the end, then it's over. I would never want to do something as wasteful as that. I'd much rather keep it here with me, safe and sound, forever.

Since that time, I've had many similar moments, and I can never hear the words "family" and "home" without feeling that they sound strange, never simply hear them and let them go. When I stop to examine them, though, the words seem hollow, seem to rattle at my feet like empty cans.

I needed to pretend to be myself at a younger, more innocent age, when we had stood marveling at the snow in the hall. I was sure that Jun would dive into only pure water, and I wanted his dive into me to be perfect; I wanted him to enter with no splash at all.

There, behind your heartbeat, have you stored up all my lost memories?

I stood at the window, where I once stood with my father looking out through binoculars, and even now small winged creatures occasionally flitted by, but they were no more than reminders that birds mean nothing at all to me anymore.

The memories of him as a small boy and memories from my days at the dormitory seemed to bleed together like the shades in a watercolor painting

I sometimes wonder what was disappeared first—among all the things that have vanished from the island.

She's always hated good-byes and as she got older she hated them even more.

This word natsukashii seemed to be made of mist, a mist I was wandering through with unsteady steps.

Paperback novelettes with faded covers still bore coffee stains and greasy fingerprints from their first readers. The books can never forget their readers, though the readers have no doubt forgotten all about the books' contents.

My father used to sing to me in my mother's womb. I think I can name about any tune in two beats.

Somewhere it is written that I was born to leave my home, to constantly leave, each time leaving a part of me behind.

What's a house when you've lost a country?' she says with a sigh.

It had its moments," I said. "I'll be damned if it didn't have its moments.

I sometimes think the past is a dangerous place to go looking for happiness," said the Indian man sitting next to Serena.

Since then I had come to learn that my unhappiness had been inflicted not by Chogyal but, unintentionally, by myself. By wallowing in my own nostalgic memories, spending so much time thinking about a relationship that had moved on, I had been needlessly carrying pain. Suffering.