Quotes About Nostalgia

He was remembering too vividly the youth and freshness of her lips.

I wouldn't ask too much of her," I ventured. "You can't repeat the past." "Can't repeat the past?" he cried incredulously. "Why of course you can!

Youth is like having a big plate of candy. Sentimentalists think they want to be in the pure, simple state they were in before they ate the candy. They don't. They just want the fun of eating it all over again. The matron doesn't want to repeat her girlhood--she wants to repeat her honeymoon. I don't want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again.

I don't ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside of me there will always be the person I am tonight.

Can't repeat the past?' he cried incredulously. 'Why of course you can!

That's my middle west - not the wheat or the prairies or the lost Swede towns but the thrilling, returning trains of my youth and the street lames and sleigh bells in the frosty dark and the shadows of holly wreaths thrown by lighted windows on the snow.

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter - tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther... and one fine morning- So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

I first read The Great Gatsby as a teenager; I imagine this is when most Americans encounter F. Scott Fitzgerald's seminal work.

I wouldn't ask too much of her,' I ventured. 'You can't repeat the past.' 'Can't repeat the past?' he cried incredulously. 'Why of course you can!

F. Scott Fitzgerald

happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarcely knew at all. Their house was even more elaborate than

We're getting old,' said Daisy. 'If we were young we'd rise and dance.

I don't want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again. Q.—Where

I spent my Saturday nights in New York, because those gleaming, dazzling parties of his were with me so vividly that I could still hear the music and the laughter, faint and incessant, from his garden, and the cars going up and down his drive.

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter — tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther… And one fine morning— So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

I found her as lovable as a cheap old toy. She

I wouldn't ask too much of her," I ventured. "You can't repeat the past." "Can't repeat the past?" he cried incredulously. "Why of course you can!" He looked around him wildly, as if the past were lurking here in the shadow of his house, just out of reach of his hand. "I'm going to fix everything just the way it was before," he said, nodding determinedly. "She'll see.

You can't re- peat the past." "Can't repeat the past?" he cried incredulously. "Why of course you can!

what I had almost remembered was uncommunicable forever.

Through all he said, even through his appalling sentimentality, I was reminded of something—an elusive rhythm, a fragment of lost words, that I had heard somewhere a long time ago. For a moment a phrase tried to take shape in my mouth and my lips parted like a dumb man's, as though there was more struggling upon them than a wisp of startled air. But they made no sound, and what I had almost remembered was uncommunicable forever.

I wouldn't ask too much of her,' I ventured. 'You can't repeat the past.' 'Can't repeat the past?' he cried incredulously. 'Why of course you can!' He looked around him wildly, as if the past were lurking here in the shadow of his house, just out of reach of his hand.

I've got one more record, she said. -Have you heard 'So Long, Letty'? I suppose you have. Honestly, you don't understand-I haven't heard a thing. Nor known, nor smelt, nor tasted, he might have added; only hot-cheeked girls in hot secret rooms. The young maidens he had known at New Haven in 1914 kissed men, saying There!, hands at the man's chest to push him away. Now there was this scarcely saved waif of disaster bringing him the essence of a continent....

So we beat on boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

Americans were saying good-by in voices that mimicked the cadence of water running into a large old bathtub.