Quotes About Nostalgia

Little Peter's," Soto said.

C'est quand on arrive à la fin qu'on veut revenir en arrière…

It had been Bosch's experience that when you looked back at a life, you used a magnifying glass. Everything was bigger, amplified. A college tryst could become the love of a lifetime in memory.

It was the kind of phone booth you only saw in old movies and at the Farmers Market or over at Phillippe's.

Photographs provided a tangible reality to men who were far from home, fearful and tired; they were posed proofs of success, souvenirs to send to sweethearts and loved ones, or simply ways of remembering, of grasping a moment in a swiftly changing and uncertain world. His

There's nothing more sobering than a thirty year old newspaper.

Maybe there is nothing, ever, that can equal the recollection of having been young together.

Like the morning you walked out of that old house, when you were eighteen and I was, well, I had just turned nineteen, hadn't I? I was a nineteen-year-old and I was in love with Louis and I was in love with you, and I thought I had never seen anything so beautiful as the sight of you walking out a glass door in the early morning, still sleepy, in your underwear. Isn't it strange?

One of the troubles with love is, you can't talk about it without feeling like you keep cueing old songs.

Hay seres que sin saber bien por qué, se sienten sin raíces en este mundo. Lo que los demás llaman realidad les parece un espejismo, un sueño confuso y a menudo angustioso. Se sienten condenados a vivir en este mundo como si se tratara de un exilio en tierra hostil. Con nostalgia incurable añoran otra realidad que creen recordar como una patria lejana, sin poder formular nada concreto sobre ella.

Perhaps the home I am homesick for is still there, after all.

The third week of June, and there it is again: the same almost embarrassing familiar breath of sweetness that comes every year about this time. I catch it on the warm evening air as I walk past the well-ordered gardens in my quiet street, and for a moment I am a child again and everything before me - all of the frightening, half-understood promises of life.

I think that Vietnam was what we had instead of happy childhoods.

Their uselessness becomes their asset: they turn into totems and fragments of the lost worlds they came from.

Donnie Green himself had been a trader at Salomon Brothers in the dark ages, when traders had more hair on their chests than on their heads.

the hospital where he was born must have preserved some record of the event, but Michael didn't

In the months of her slow death, she'd made little notes in a book, jotted down memories of her early life, as if gathering fallen leaves to her chest, to stop them from being scattered and lost by the coming winds.

Yet the place was strangely old-fashioned. The strongest feeling I got from New York at first was nostalgia. A 1930s vision of the future.

We could not bring back the Golden Age. Indeed we were now paying the price of having enjoyed one.

It is so beautiful but home is home, and home is best.

You return to that earlier time armed with the present, and no matter how dark that world was, you do not leave it unlit. You take your adult self with you. It is not to be a reliving, but a rewitnessing.

I am not in love with him, I am in love with ghosts. So is he, he's in love with ghosts.

Nowadays he doesn't think of his wife, though he knows he can turn around and evoke every move of her, describe any aspect of her, the weigh of her wrist on his heart during the night.

But when we are searching for an example of what we no longer have, we see it everywhere.