Quotes About Nostalgia

I feel like I'm caught in time, caught in a perfect moment inside a snow globe that maybe I'd beg my mom for at a gas station, and I can't find my breath, and my knees feel a little wobbly, and I try to remind myself to remember this moment, to hold on to it forever, to seal it up like we really are in that snow globe and to never let anything shatter the bubble that envelops us, that protects us from everything else around us in the outside world.

Sometime years before, I had dragged an old bean bag chair to that place. I watched Zach sink onto it, and then he pulled me down to lean against him. I felt his arms go around me, holding me tight. I was safe. I was warm. I was home.

Hale." Kat sighed. "The headmaster's car? Really? That's not to cliched for you?" What can I say?" He shrugged. "I'm an old-fashioned guy. Besides, it's a classic for a reason." He leaned against the window. "It's good to see you, Kat." Kat didn't know what to say. It's good to see you, too? Thanks for getting me kicked out? Is it possible you've gotten even hotter? I think I might have missed you?

She needed a minute. He needed a minute. Those were the lies he told himself, but the truth was they both needed the past six years back. Only six years would do.

Dear Logan, This is called a letter. It's like an email but written on paper and sent through the regular mail (like bills).

But when Mr. Stein sipped his hot coffee and watched Kat drink hers, he smiled the way he might if he saw a replica of his favorite childhood toy in a shop window—happy that something he loved wasn't entirely gone from the world.

I get it, even if Jamie can't put it into words. There are some books you can never get rid of, even if you don't like the ending.

Kat stood there looking at the very boys who had stolen the first tooth she had ever lost and tried to ransom it to the tooth fairy; the two young men who had once stolen a Tyrannosaurus rex from the Museum of Natural History—one bone at a time.

But when Mr. Stein sipped his hot coffee and watched Kat drink hers, he smiled the way he might if he saw a replica of his favorite childhood toy in a shop window—happy that something he loved wasn't entirely gone from the world.

It is strange how we hold on to the pieces of the past while we wait for our futures.

Los nervios de punta, la razón ausente y el gesto detenido en un reloj averiado, parado en una fecha feliz y remota. Aquella insensibilidad repentina, de ritmo lento y ademanes mecánicos, era el signo de otro amor, el amor del cuerpo, de la piel herida en la memoria de los besos que no se repetirían

no recordaba desde que era un niño que abandonaba la escuela en una calurosa mañana de junio, con todo el verano por delante.

Estoy cansada de no saber dónde morirme. Ésa es la mayor tristeza del emigrado. ¿Qué tenemos nosotros que ver con los cementerios de los países donde vivimos? [...] ¿No comprendéis? Nosotros somos aquellos que miraron sus pensamientos uno por uno durante treinta años. Durante treinta años suspiramos por nuestro paraíso perdido, un paraíso nuestro, único, especial.

There is no scent of nostalgia like a fragrance drawn from the garden of childhood memories.

In my flowery dreams there's always you. I do not regret it one bit.

Paula admitted she may've been thinking a smidge rashly when she'd longed for the chilly winds and snowcapped 'scrapers of home.

So many moments of irritating, wearisome disgust are returned to us years later by memory as splendidly happy episodes. Nostalgia is the lie that speeds our approach to death.

No es todo lo que quería decirle. Ni siquiera he comenzado. Lo cual, desde luego, no importa. Con usted no es necesario decir las cosas porque ya las sabe desde antes, desde siempre. Muchos besos y toda la nostalgia de quien la extraña mucho.

The chances of a reunion now are less likely. I was thinking of having a 40th anniversary of the band, but now they are really another band, so it's all a bit weird.

My mom was a photographer and whenever they needed a baby for a modelling job, she'd stick me in front of the camera. That's how it started.

Remember when you picked me up like a frisbee and tossed me across you yard?

Memories are the only things we really own, the only things that stay constant. Everything else becomes dust.

We're like—we're like the Backstreet Boys in a way—only dead.

Mi cabeza está colmada de sueños, mi corazón está colmado de fantasmas.