Quotes About Nostalgia

I grew up with a little brother, and we would always watch 'Transformers' together, and he had all the toys. So I was really thrilled and honored to be a part of this franchise.

On Route 66, a lot of it, it's very transient. There's an awful lot of really, really bad food, you can't ignore that.

Dorm-room life was a tough transition. You're young, and you realize how much you miss the comfort of home.

When I was younger, I was living in that green room and accompanying them to all the different theaters that they worked at. So, that has always remained a nostalgic place for me and also one of great admiration. I was just so grateful that that passion they have for theater translated to me, because I always loved seeing it.

Film has lost something in the translation to high tech. It's become so super-real. It's with digital this and stereo that, and everything's like a CD.

I'm very happy in my life, but I do feel that music has a power to transport you to places or to beautiful moments in your past.

If you have children and want to give your future self a present, record their laughter as toddlers. When they're older and away from you, you might find that clip in the middle of the day, and it will transport you as surely as if you had a time machine.

When I write about things, it's a lot to do with sense memory. How things smell and taste can bring incredible memories flooding back and transport you in an instant to another time and place.

The faculty of memory cannot be separated from the imagination. They go hand in hand. To one degree or another, we all invent our personal pasts. And for most of us those pasts are built from emotionally colored memories.

So when I got to be about 13 or 14, I started listening - even though my parents music was way cool - to contemporary hard rock at that time, which was Aerosmith, Cheap Trick, Black Sabbath, AC/DC, Ted Nugent and all that, and that's just where I came from.

I think when I was a kid, and I was in England and it was all about The Stones, The Who, The Kinks and The Beatles and that's what my dad was into.

Neke veze je naprosto teško prekinuti, sve se u tebi odupire, a svaki novi susret podupire suludu nadu da ?e se nešto dogoditi i da ?ete ponovo biti zajedno, kao nekada.

That had been the trouble with him and Betsy: what with his brooding about the past and worrying about the future, there had never been any present at all.

How curious it was to find that apparently nothing was ever really forgotten, that the past was never really gone, that it was always lurking, ready to destroy the present, or at least to make the present seem absurd.

O problema não era o fato de ele não mais acreditar no sonho; o problema era ele nem sequer achar sua improbabilidade interessante ou triste. Como um velho, preocupava-se com o passado e não com o futuro.

Our culture's obsession with vintage objects has rendered us unable to separate history from nostalgia. People want heart. They want a chaser of emotion with their aesthetics.

The year most of my high school friends and I got our driver's permits, the coolest thing one could do was stand outside after school and twirl one's car keys like a lifeguard whistle. That jingling sound meant freedom and power.

Somehow everything I own smells of you, and for the tiniest moment it's all not true

the tan lines will fade but the memories last forever <3

Y'all don't say jive anymore, do ya?" "No, that's some ol' Sanford and Son stuff." "You shut your mouth, boy. That Redd Foxx is a comedic genius. That skinny dude you kids think is so funny? Jerry Murphy? Freddie Murphy?" "Eddie Murphy, and he's the joint!" "Your little Eddie Murphy ain't got nothing on no Redd Foxx.

Well, memory can play tricks. Most people, I think, tend to remember the good rather than the bad when someone close to them dies.

i gather up each sound you left behind and stretch them on our bed. each nite i breathe you and become high.

On the evening of her eighteenth birthday, Maddy opened her journal and made a list of the jewels and precious stones she'd held. Gold, diamond, emerald; ruby, turquoise, pearl; amber, jade, marble… There were some she had forgotten. Beneath these she listed what she thought were the most perfect tastes and smells. Coffee, cinnamon, peaches; vanilla, honey, basil; baking bread, fresh bread, toasting bread.

Though she'd try to do otherwise, she had never been able to stop cluttering her present with her past. Now somebody she didn't know would pack her treasures into plastic bags and carry them away. A life, at its end, is a pile of cloth and paper, and goods that can be bagged and labelled. None of the best things - the voice and the laugh, the tilt of the head, the things seen and felt and spoken - are allowed to stay behind.