Quotes About Nostalgia

And when she surfaces from her dream, she calls me by my old name, though no one uses it anymore. And she turns to me, her eyelashes fluttering in the glare that surrounds me, and whispers to me in one short syllable. Tink.

I'm thinking of things I like about living more than I realized; insane things considering how trivial they are. I like Burger King fries. I like watching my dad listening to Hall & Oates. The smell of new tennis balls. I love this old collection of unicorn stickers I have in a cookie tin in my closet. Maybe this is life flashing before your eyes; maybe it's supposed to be mundane.

The movies I made when I was 14 or 15, I have a hard time looking at those. Those were the awkward years. I don't know if anybody can look at something they did when they were 14 and not wince.

Every now and then, though, it feels like we're trying to rekindle our neglected friendships with an old ritual that's lost its sparkle.

Strange, how the best moments of our lives we scarcely notice except in looking back.

What a place. Glokta stifled a smile. It reminds me of myself, in a way. We both were magnificent once, and we both have our best days far behind us.

But that's the nice thing about looking backwards. You can pick out the bits that suit your story and toss the unhappy truths to the wind.

When he'd made it thirty strides or so Logen turned around and looked back. The pot was sitting forlorn by the lake, already filling up with rainwater. They'd been through a lot together, him and that pot. "Fare you well, old friend." The pot did not reply.

I thought of how she'd been at three, at six, at nine. No one warns you about the losses. No one tells you you'll miss them, those earlier children. They disappear, but are they still there, sealed one inside the next like those little wooden Russian dolls?

There are perhaps no days of our childhood we lived so fully as those we spent with a favorite book.

Memories are fragile things to hold, but many times, it's what we have.

Perhaps someday we could all make it back to the places where we started. I didn't believe it, but I tried to.

I want her back" I said "I want HIM back"~Charlie

If I had to offer up a one sentence definition of addiction, I'd call it a form of mourning for the irrecoverable glories of the first time...addiction can show us what is deeply suspect about nostalgia. That drive to return to the past isn't an innocent one. It's about stopping your passage to the future, it's a symptom of fear of death, and the love of predictable experience. And the love of predictable experience, not the drug itself, is the major damage done to users.

Once upon a time the future was supposed to be brighter, shinier and more fun. When did that vision pass? When did the word 'new' lose it's luster? Now the past is supposed to hold the hopes we once confided to the future. We're directing attachments that used to go forward backward.

Never has nostalgia held stronger sway; never has the belief in the redemptive possibilities of the future seemed so laughable.

if you think about one memory for most of a day, is that not your present? Some people live in the now; some people prefer to reside in the past—either choice is valid.

The past is the same as the present to her, as precious and as close at hand. After all, if you think about one memory for most of a day, is that not your present? Some people live in the now; some people prefer to reside in the past—either choice is valid.

He watches his new life walk into his old life.

You'll all set sail, as you should, and leave your mother and me here. It's a tale as old as time.

The past gets carried with us. It's always there.

There comes a day each September when you wake up and know the summer is over and fall has arrived. The slant of the sun looks different and something is in the air--a coolness, a hint of frosty mornings to follow. I woke early on the morning of September 24 and reached for a warmer petticoat.

Maa, vaikkei kotimaani olekaan / on muistoissani katoamaton / ja merikin niin hellän-jäinen, / sen vesi miltei suolaton

That was a time when only the deadcould smile.