Quotes About Nostalgia

none of us move on without a backward look. We move on always carrying with us those we have lost.

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.' F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender Is the Night

Don't think of me too often. I don't want to think of you getting all maudlin.

Nunca, jamás me arrepentiré de las cosas que he hecho. Porque casi todos los días, si estás atrapado en un cacharro como este, lo único que te queda son los lugares de tus recuerdos que aún puedes visitar.

I don't ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside me there'll always be the person I am to-night. • F. SCOTT FITZGERALD, Tender Is the Night

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None of us moves on without a backward look. We move on always carrying with us those we have lost.

we sat there together for a while longer, two people lost in remembered music, half hidden in the shadow of a castle on a moonlit hill.

I remember opening my dad's closet and there were, like, 40 suits, every color of the rainbow, plaid and winter and summer. He had two jewelry boxes full of watches and lighters and cuff links. And just... he was that guy. He was probably unfulfilled in his life in many ways.

brief dry kisses, hugs, little more – would be swept aside in a hurried series of remembered moves and gestures.

The past always seems somehow more golden, more serious, than the present. We tend to forget the partisanship of yesteryear, preferring to re-imagine our history as a sure and steady march toward greatness.

och det var snarare det som gjorde honom desperat, att han insåg att det gick att gå vidare, att det inte var något av det som hade varit så stort som var stort nog att han skulle minnas det på riktigt [...]

Some day, years later, in our memories, we'll return back to these places, and we'll toss about and we won't be able to sleep, thinking, remembering...it will all come back and we won't be able to change anything... So I wish that then, years later, you wouldn't regret anything and you wouldn't want to change anything at all - a life lived perfectly, a perfect memory...

Bet aš negaliu palikti nei vienos vietos be žaizdos savo prisiminimuose.

Žmogus turi gyvent kur gim? ir vaikas augo. Kitaip jis gyvena be kvap?, be gars?, be prisilietim? prisiminimo. Jis taip neturtingas, taip biednas. Be kvap?, be atospalvi?, be garso nuskamb?jim?, atoaidži?, be daikt? atsiskamb?jimo. Jis tada išauga ?šiaurus, piktas, aštrus, kaip peilis.

i'm a displaced person on my way home, in search for my home, retracing bits of past, looking for some recognisable traces of my past.

Kult?ra yra basose kojose. Kult?ra yra šaltuos ryto rasos gintaruos. Ir arklio prunkštime. Neužmirškime savo arkli?!

One of the saddest realities is that we never know when our lives are at their peak. Only after it is over and we have some kind of perspective do we realize how good we had it a day, a month, five years ago.

Even so tiny a loss has the power to still feel like a loss.

And of course there was the loss of women, some of whom he still woke up aching for. He'd study their remnants alone at night - slips of paper bearing old phone numbers. Photographs. A mitten. In bed he would stare at the ceiling, trying to seize on the exact feeling of a particular woman's head on his chest. It's weight, the smell of her hair.

WITH ITS SOARING ceilings and oily oaken tables, the central branch of the Berkeley Public Library harks back to a grander, more civic-minded era. No other local building embodies more starkly the gulf between 1900s idealism and twenty-first-century reality.

You could grow up in the city where history was made and still miss it all.

My heart, to put it more simply, got nostalgic for the present. Always a bad sign.