Quotes About Nostalgia

I have emotional strings that tie me to Europe.

Emotionally, a person is tied to the land of his birth. It's only human.

Growing up in New Jersey, teen clubs were your life. I'm not kidding! That was it. I was literally tied up five days a week with teen clubs; my parents would drop me off. Like, I didn't even drive.

The anonymity of the internet has been completely abandoned - everything's so tied to your identity and sense of self now. It's hard for me to see that changing, but that's why I wrote a love letter to something that once was.

I can remember stepping out of the car with my skates already tied, smelling the ocean breeze.

Pretty mundane closet, but a lot of ties. And I tend not to throw anything out, so I have a lot of clothes from all times from my life. I can be a little sentimental with things like that.

I remember when people actually wore coats and ties to theatre every night. They don't anymore. It's very different.

I thought my dad was out of work, because my friends had fathers with briefcases who'd go off somewhere with bow ties on. But my father would finish breakfast and go back to his room.

I constantly write about my safety walking to and from school, and then I would come home at night, and I would cut on the TV, and I would watch a show like 'The Wonder Years,' or I would watch, you know, some other show like 'Family Ties.'

I've said all along that someday I wanted to go back home and play in Flordia. I played high school and college ball in Flordia and all my ties are back home.

Adapting a Judy Blume book is something I really wanted to do, and you couldn't grow up in the '90s without knowing about 'Tiger Eyes' and reading it. It should've been assigned to all teenage girls.

Our feature film, 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon Two,' has a built-in fan base from the original film.

If I could give a shout-out to anything in the childhood world, I have to say 'Daniel Tiger.' I want to write a love letter to everyone on that staff. It is so perfectly, thoughtfully, lovingly done. And as a parent, it is the one thing out of everything that we dip in to that really helps.

I remember going to The Open in 1998 aged seven and snatching a picture of Tiger walking past.

Thank you for sneaking your transistor under the pillow as you grew up loving the Tigers. God has a new adventure for me.

I, at high school, had a very select group of friends. I am still pretty tight with them now. I definitely have a lot more friends than I remember when I go back home!

The first song I wrote was called 'Baby Darling Darling Girl,' and you know what's funny? It went, 'Baby darling darling girl, I really love your Jheri Curl.' I thought it was tight as hell.

I love James Taylor and Carole King, Joni Mitchell - this is, like, early '70s stuff. I love the stuff from the '40s. I love that tight harmony that the studio singers in the '50s would sing. I love Patsy Cline. Yeah, I'm all over the place.

When we were growing up, Russell and I were into The Who, The Move, The Kinks, early Pink Floyd, really good tight pop bands.

Goodbye, Pinecone. You will always be in my heart.

I always feel slightly sad when a good story ends—like I'm saying good-bye to a friend I may not see again for a long time.

I tend to agree with the theory that if you want to keep a memory pristine, you must not call upon it too often, for each time it is revisited, you alter it irrevocably, remembering not the original impression left by experience but the last time you recalled it. With tiny differences creeping in at each cycle, the exercise of our memory does not bring us closer to the past but draws us further away.

I believe that photographs actually rob all of us of our memory.

we can only hope that the evocative Welsh word hiraeth will be preserved. It means 'distant pain', and I know all about it…But, and this is important, it always refers to a near-umbilical attachment to a place, not just free-floating nostalgia or a droopy houndlike wistfulness of the longing we associate with human love. No, this is a word about the pain of loving a place.