Quotes About Nostalgia

Phillip Schofield has always been my primary crush. Sure, I danced in front of the telly when Shakin' Stevens was on Top of the Pops, but that was because my rudimentary grasp of how telly works made this five-year-old think she could be seen by him. So that was less love, more showing off.

I always loved both 'Breakout' and 'Asteroids' - I thought they were really good games. There was another game called 'Tempest' that I thought was really cool, and it represented a really hard technology. It's probably one of the only colour-vector screens that was used in the computer graphics field at that time.

Men say, 'I've loved you since I was 7 years old,' and I say, 'Well, you never contacted me.' And very often women say, 'Do youuuuuu know what I have?' and I want to say, 'Yessssssss, I do.' Because inevitably the answer is, 'An original Shirley Temple doll.'

If you think of the 1930s in film as the decade of Gable and Lombard, Cagney and Harlow, Stanwyck and the Marx Brothers, think again. The biggest star - No. 1 in the 1936, '37 and '38 exhibitor polls - was a three-time box-office champ before she was 10. Shirley Temple, singer, dancer, and prime exemplar of Movie Cute, owned the '30s.

Growing up, I watched a lot of Shirley Temple movies.

I'd watch old movies with Judy Garland, Shirley Temple and Bette Davis and long to be part of that glamorous world. A lot of that glamour is gone now. In my own small way, I hope I'm bringing some of it back. But it would be great if I could inspire women to dress up.

I love a good Roy Rogers or Shirley Temple, and I had to give those up. And Philly cheesesteaks. I love Philly cheesesteaks, and now they really aren't around anymore.

I absolutely love Shirley Temples. I don't know why, but ever since I was young, it's always been my favorite thing to drink!

Whatever happened to Gloomy Gus of the Chicago Bears?

Family life was wonderful. The streets were bleak. The playgrounds were bleak. But home was always warm. My mother and father had a great relationship. I always felt 'safe' there.

As a man gets older, his regrets changes. Especially when he's gotten into the Scotch.

The awful thing, as a kid reading, was that you came to the end of the story, and that was it. I mean, it would be heartbreaking that there was no more of it.

Social dislocation can easily breed a reactionary form of nostalgia.

June recalls as a child being raised in a loveless home: "I remember climbing up on the stool in the morning to get the cereal down from the cupboard. And when I took a bath, I took it alone. I didn't have rubber duckies or anything like that to play with. My grandmother would leave me and come back thirty minutes later to see me shivering in the cold water.

From time to time, heavier than a meteorite at its journey's end, a boxer's glove falls. The crowd trampled these memories of kisses and embraces underfoot without paying them the deference they deserved. I alone avoided treading on them. Sometimes I even picked one up. It thanked me with a warm embrace. I felt it tremble in my trouser pocket. Its mistress must have trembled just like that in a fleeting moment of love. I walked on.

HELLO DARKNESS, MY OLD FRIEND

There come a day in every man's life when he stops looking forward and starts looking back.

My father knew the depth of my relationship to my mother, and he didn't begrudge us a moment of it. My relationship with him was different. He'd raised me to be a man, and he was proud of me. But to my mother—I suspect to all mothers—their little boys will always be their little boys, no matter how old those boys become.

we live for the quiet, intimate moments that mark not our calendars but our hearts: The day we marry. The days our children are born. Their first step. Their first word. Their first day of school. And when our children grow, we remember those moments with a touch of melancholy: the day they get their driver's license, the day we drive them to college, the day they marry, and the day they have their children.

odor that reminded him of the smell of wet wood. "We

The thing about memories is they're rarely as you remember them.

There comes a day in every man's life when he stops looking forward and starts looking back. —Maxwell Hill

Hamilton thrust his hands into his pockets. "Home

She sang along to Kenny Rogers