Quotes About Nostalgia

Perhaps the hardest thing about losing a lover is to watch the year repeat its days. It is as if I could dip my hand down into time and scoop up blue and green lozenges of April heat a year ago in another country. I can feel that other day running underneath this one like an old videotape

I walk and walk with cold hands. Back at the house it is filled with longing, nothing to carry longing away. I look back over my life. I try to find analogies. There are none. I have longed for people before, I have loved people before. Not like this. It was not this.

The presence of want awakens in him nostalgia for wholeness. His thoughts turn toward questions

Perhaps the hardest thing about losing a lover is to watch the year repeat its days. It is as if I could dip my hands down into time and scoop up blue and green lozenges of April heat a year ago in another country.

That was the cruelty of memory. The way it could ambush you. Take you out at the knees.

This is what remains. Magical objects with the magic gone out of them. A few cassettes and no tape machine on which they can be played.

I get out of the car to look at it. 1922–1989

My brother and I were able to fantasize far more extravagantly about our parents' tastes and desires, their aspirations and their vices, by scanning their bookcases than by snooping in their closest. Their selves were on their shelves.

Memories mean more to me than dresses.

She misses the surety of Soviet patriotism that she grew up with,

school smells exactly alike, a combination of

I have a shelf of comfort books, which I read when the world closes in on me or something untoward happens.

Long after you've forgotten someone's voice, you can still remember the sound of their happiness or their sadness. You can feel it in your body.

The only real security in a relationship lies neither in looking back in nostalgia, nor forward in dread or anticipation, but living in the present relationship and accepting it as it is now.

Security in a relationship lies neither in looking back to what it was in nostalgia, nor forward to what it might be in dread or anticipation, but living in the present relationship and accepting it as it is now.

It was as if the empty nights were made for thinking of him. And sometimes I found myself so vividly aware of him it was as if he had only just left the room and the ring of his voice were still there. And somehow, there was a disturbing comfort in that, and, despite myself, I'd envision his face.

I'll put it out there: I am scarred by the nostalgic indicipherability of my own desires; I an engulfed by the intimidating unknown, pushed through darkness and dragged down by the irretrievable past sweetness of my memories.

Want als je geen toekomst meer hebt, wat blijft er anders over dan dromen van het verleden.

Leone, P., M. Poshka, and V. E. Norton Jr. Around Chautauqua Lake: 50 Years of Photographs 1875–1925. Westfield, NY: Chautauqua Region Press, 1997.

For if you no longer have a future, what else is there left but dreams of the past?

If you no longer had a future, what else is there left but dreams of the past?

Ich weiß nicht, wie ich ein Gestern ertragen habe, und ein Vorgestern, und die vielen Tage, die sich noch rückwärts reihen.

One afternoon when he was there, I burned the living-room carpet down to the weft by placing a boiling coffee pot on top of it. I didn't care. Quite the contrary. I was happy every time I caught sight of the mark as I remembered that afternoon with him. I

Cand eram copil, pentru mine, luxul insemna mantouri de blana, rochii lungi si vile pe malul marii. Mai tarziu, am crezut ca inseamna sa duci o viata de intelectual. Acum mi se pare ca inseamna si sa poti trai o pasiune pentru un barbat sau o femeie.