Quotes About Nostalgia

Babadag, de nouveau, comme il y a deux ans : le car fait un arrêt de dix minutes, le chauffeur s'éclipse, la marmaille fait la manche sans conviction dans la chaleur torride de midi, rien n'a changé. Seuls les billets de mille lei avec Eminescu ont disparu, remplacés désormais par de petits ronds en aluminium représentant Constantin Brâncoveanu. (p. 308)

There are friends and faces that may be forgotten, but there are horses that never will be.

than thirty years that I haven't thought of Jones. More specifically, I don't believe a

Someday we will all be dead and you will be praying for a Saturday night at Marie's with the gang.

You know when you're young you think you will always be. As you become more fragile, you reflect and you realize how much comfort can come from the past. Hymns can carry you into the future.

Asha leans forward. "Hello." She waves to Ian. "Hey there." "Asha, my agent," Lark says, "Ian, my old buddy. He owns the yarn and tea store." "That sounds unbearably charming," Asha says. "It's painfully twee," Ian agrees. "I fucking love it.

When I was in my early twenties, it seemed like everyone I knew – every male, I should say – read Bukowski. These men of my acquaintance listened to the Go-Betweens, drank Guinness from a straight glass and loved Bukowski like little girls love ponies.

It was just… he remembered his puppy. And he fucking loved puppies.

A picture means I know where I was every minute. That's why I take pictures. It's a visual diary.

Over the years Woodstock got glorified and romanticised and became the event that symbolised Utopia. It's the last page of our collective memory of the age of innocence. Then things turned ugly and would never be the same again.

rhubarb wine and cowslip beer, cured

Sad; so sad, those smoky-rose, smoky-mauve evenings of late autumn, sad enough to pierce the heart. The sun departs the sky in winding sheets of gaudy cloud; anguish enters the city, a sense of the bitterest regret, a nostalgia for things we never knew, anguish of the turn of the year, the time of impotent yearning, the inconsolable season.

The lilies i always associate with him; that are white. And stain you.

a great future behind him, already

There was a house we all had in common and it was called the past, even though we'd lived in different rooms.

There are some names that one can't even say in a normal voice because they lay open some nerve. I was frightfully in love with a woman once. Her name was Susan and she came from Norwich and she lived with her husband in Ovington Square. I fell out of love with her, and I haven't seen her or heard of her for years, but if I read or hear the words Susan, or Norwich, or Ovington, I go all queer.

and Bill broke a cheerful silence for the first time to say he wished he hadn't lost his ocarina with his kit, because he had never had a better one.

Any relation of the Allington Dales?" said Lord Pomfret. "That old Miss Lily Dale was his great-aunt or something of the sort," said Admiral Palliser; but Lord Pomfret had never heard of her. "She was engaged to some man, then broke it off," said the Admiral, "and I gather she lived on the romance till she was well over eighty. A real Victorian heroine.

Como si nada hubiera ocurrido, como si aún viviéramos en los tiempos felices en los que creíamos que nadie podría nunca separarnos y nos imaginábamos en un futuro muy lejano, viejas y juntas, ella apoyó su cabeza sobre la mía

I remember back to a time when I could walk on the beach without a pass from a hotel. When I was too young to fear getting raped, or hurt or lost.

Oh, I so miss Sep, he used to tell me so much stuff about all sorts of useless things…

I reminded myself of someone, but someone I had not seen for a long time.

Old times, sad times. I feel better about them now than I did then.

They walked endlessly, hand in hand, talking about their respective childhoods. They were in fact like two children who have elected each other as best friend.