Quotes About Nostalgia

All your life, you yearn to return to what has been. You yearn to return to those you have lost. You will do terrible things to return, which no one else can understand.

young girl Revere had brought home

The last time I saw Paris, my heart was definitely not young and gay. Bitter and disillusioned would be more like it.

the nostalgia for things that weren't yet lost.

People are the same all over the world, I imagine, people who react like that to their countries conspiracies: turning them into tales that are told, like children's fables, and also into place in the memory or the imagination, a place where we go as tourists, to revive nostalgia or to try to find something we've lost.

Childhood doesn't exist for children; however, for adults childhood is that former country we lost one day and which we futilely seek to recover by inhabiting it with diffuse or nonexistent memories, which in general are nothing but shadows of other dreams.

Esa noche volvieron a sucederse los sueños. ¿Por qué ese recordar intenso de tantas cosas? ¿Por qué no simplemente la muerte y no esa música tierna del pasado?

Miraba caer las gotas iluminadas por los relámpagos, y cada que respiraba suspiraba, y cada vez que pensaba, pensaba en ti, Susana.

I watched the trickles glinting in the lightning flashes, and every breath I breathed, I sighed. And every thought I thought was of you, Susana.

Y Natalia se olvidó de mí desde entonces. Yo sé cómo le brillaban antes los ojos como si fueran charcos alumbrados por la luna. Pero de pronto se destiñeron, se le borró la mirada como si la hubiera revolcado en la tierra. Y pareció no ver ya nada.

Siempre vivió ella suspirando por Comala, por el retorno; pero jamás volvió. Ahora yo vengo en su lugar.

The day you went away I knew I would never see you again. You were stained red by the late afternoon sun, by the dusk filling the sky with blood. You were smiling. You had often said of the town you were leaving behind, "I like it because of you; but I hate everything else about it - even having been born here." I thought, she will never come back; I will never see her again.

Childhood romances always seem so real, so enduring, when we are separated from the object of our affection. But usually, when we return, we find that our dreams and memories quiet surpassed reality. -Lady Anne, Whitney's aunt

Christmas came three days ago.

She wondered if all the firsts in her life would go by so quickly, and be forgotten just as quickly.

Suppose there aren't any more A + days once you get to be twelve? Wouldn't that be something! To spend the rest of your life looking for an A + day and not finding it.

Not that memories were enough—they didn't keep you warm on a cold winter's night. They couldn't hold you when you were frightened or sad. But they were better than nothing.

Some people never get over their first loves. They spend their whole lives trying to recapture the thrill. Sometimes, after fifty years they get back together. They meet at some reunion or other and realize they were meant to be together.

Sometimes she wished she were a little kid again. Everything was so simple then. Now she never knew when she was going to find out something terrible, something she didn't want to know. Sometimes her jaw ached in the morning. She wondered if Princess Elizabeth's jaw ever ached.

I was about to drop a light one on his forehead when he reached up, grabbed me around the neck and pulled me down. Then he planted a big, wet smackeroo right in the middle of my face. "Sweet dreams, Pete!

Victoria closes her eyes, breathing in the familiar scent, and for a moment it's as if they've never been apart. They're still Vixen and Cassandra, summer sisters forever. The rest is a mistake, a crazy joke.

Come on, who wouldn't be nervous about seeing her first love? Who wouldn't want her old boyfriend to find her attractive? If you don't want that, you don't go to high school reunions, you don't go to the thirty-fifth commemoration of the worst year of your life. Besides, she's not fifteen anymore. She's not that girl whose heart was broken on a sunny afternoon in May. She's a woman, married

And then, from the other room, we could hear Fudge singing himself to sleep. "M-a-i-n-e spells Maine. F-u-d-g-e spells Fudgie. P-e-t-e-r spells Pee-tah. B-e-e-r spells whiskey.

I think the child I was until 12 was so much more interesting than the teenager I became. As a teenager, you get wrapped up in your friends and sexual stuff, and the imaginative life you had, it just goes. And mine was so rich and fun. Fortunately, I was able to tap back into that later on [through my books] to save my life.