Quotes About Nostalgia

I try to write like a grown-up about things I fell in love with as a child.

Returning to a city that one has known and loved fills you with a delicious sense of warmth.

Every sweet thing I see reminds me of some other thing, which is bitter.

The party, having run out of fables, or the wish to deal in them, drifted apart apart with moist-eyed regrets.

And sometimes those remembered images aren't even accurate; in revisiting some of the movies I discuss here, I've been surprised to realize that what I remember about a particular movie moment, the influential lesson that has stayed with me—how to kiss in the rain, what to say to my shell-shocked parents about their divorce, where in the linen closet to hide the liquor—sometimes doesn't actually exist in the film. It's a trick of memory

Your childhood sun-corner is where you are when the call sounds.

These are the intensities that one cannot live with, that he has to outgrow if he wants to survive. But who can help grieving for them? If the blood vessels could hold them, how much better to keep those early loves with us?

A drinking man's someone who wants to forget he isn't still young and believing

I saw that it was all over, put away in a box like a doll no longer cared for, the magical intimacy of our childhood together

But what was

There was a very slight lilt to it, too, attesting to a childhood spent far from Lincolnshire, and Grace felt herself sway, as if she could fall forward, lightly, softly, and land somewhere else. Far, far from here.

I did get to keep the wedding dresses from 'Runaway Bride'. They're all boxed up in my garage. I've never opened them. It'll be fun one day when Hazel is taller. She can play dress-up with her friends.

Your mother swears you were sleeping through the night by your second month, but she was feeding you some god-awful concoction of Karo syrup and condensed milk. That's got to be enough calories to stun an ox, let alone an eight-week-old." "I've seen pictures. I looked like a prize porker headed for the Washington County Fair.

he were a young man, he might believe he would never forget her skin, or her smile, or the strength of her. But he had learned that the mind didn't always hold on to what the heart demanded. Remember, he told his hands. Remember this.

To remember is not always to go back to what used to be.

I know not why there is such a melancholy feeling attached to the remembrance of past happiness, except that we fear that the future can have nothing so bright as the past.

Memory is the medium of the must-have-been.

Only those who are bereaved of all joy in this present world may take refuge in the shadows of the past.

But trust me, if I lived in the '80s, I would definitely be the one going to the record stores.

That's the beauty of a memory, isn't it? It's the place in our hearts where we can hold onto our loved ones forever.

Sì. Anton used to paint when he was younger.

I am told that the first comprehensible word I uttered as a child was 'home.'

I hope they remember the good stuff, when I was a baby, a toddler, when they still had hopes and dreams for their little girl, their miracle child. In truth they were good to me. They were only doing what they knew how to do; what they thought was best.

I've never been nostalgic, personally or politically - if the past was so great, how come it's history?