Quotes About Nostalgia

Across three thousand miles of sea and through strange England's smiling, and into a wee Scots Highland town there is a lad who's crying. Oh fool the world, he could, he could, a man at twenty years . . . but all alone in that Highland town there is a boy in tears.

Irene felt a desperate surge of nostalgia for her Library. Her life was more than just airship chases, cyborg alligator attacks, and hanging out with this alternate universe's nearest analogue to Sherlock Holmes. She was a Librarian, and the deepest, most fundamental part of her life involved a love of books. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to shut the rest of the world out and have nothing to worry about except the next page of whatever she was reading.

But, Lord Crist! whan that it remembreth meUpon my yowthe, and on my jolitee,It tikleth me aboute myn herte roote.Unto this day it dooth myn herte booteThat I have had my world as in my tyme.

The age of recording is necessarily an age of nostalgia--when was the past so hauntingly accessible?--but its bitterest insight is the incapacity of even the most perfectly captured sound to restore the moment of its first inscribing. That world is no longer there.

Scattered among these things are reminders that sound once existed: a metronome, a drumming pad, a guitar pick, a trumpet mouthpiece, a music stand, a tuning fork, a block of rosin...The older instruments bear the marks of those who have already played them, the scuffs and bites and dents that are the mysterious scars of sound. In their midst the house hangs, tenuous and enveloping, a sounding board waiting to be struck.

The question of what exactly we remember when we listen to old recordings, or whether it can be called remembering at all, becomes less and less answerable over a lifetime.

If you have a quiet half hour with one of your dear companions like peason or gillibrand what is nicer than a game of snakes and ladders? Aktually quite a number of things are nicer like a film of marilyn monroe a quiet cig or a plateful of roast turkey but you do not get these things at skool chiz so it have to be snakes and laders.

When I was old enough to go to movies alone, I got to see 'Frankenstein' and 'Dracula' on the big screen. I just fell in love with them.

'Tis but the wraith of love; yet I linger.

Gabrielle: When I was a little girl, on Sunday mornings, if I'd been good, I was allowed to feed the giraffes. Richard: Giraffes! Don't tell me that you had giraffes too? Gabrielle: You mean you... Richard: But of course we did Gabrielle: Oh what fun. Both of us having had giraffes as children.

Quando se fica velha a memória não é muito boa. - Ela suspirou. - Não é tão ruim esquecer coisas pequenas, é quando não se sabe o que entristece mais, se o outono, porque faz a gente se lembrar de si mesma, ou a primavera, porque se aproveita menos dela do que antes. A coisa mais triste na velhice é talvez não ser mais capaz de tolices. Tradução de Clarice Lispector

But then you met Dad in the drugstore." She laughed—not a happy laugh, exactly, but one you might use in talking about an embarrassing incident from your past.

It's hard for me to get used to these changing times. I can remember when the air was clean and sex was dirty.

I can remember when the air was clean and the sex was dirty." -George Burns

I can remember when the air was clean and sex was dirty.

I can't understand why I flunked American history. When I was a kid there was so little of it.

He was a father in those happy and balmy days for fathers, when they and their wishes were immediately obeyed, when they were the ostensible focal point of the family's existence and their commands were never ignored.

If it wasn't for flash backs, I wouldn't remember anything at all.

I grew up in the world of bad television, on my dad's sets and then as a young schmuck on dating shows and so on.

I was in a bar and I said to a friend, 'You know, we've become those 40-year-old guys we used to look at and say, 'Isn't it sad?'

The last real movie stars were probably Redford and Newman. And things were different then. There wasn't this amazing amount of magazines and information about them.

Indeed, it required a nose both subtle and unprejudiced to understand and appreciate and thoroughly enjoy that Paris—not the Paris of M. le Baron Haussmann, lighted by gas and electricity, and flushed and drained by modern science; but the "good old Paris" of Balzac and Eugène Sue and Les Mystères—the Paris of dim oil-lanterns suspended from iron gibbets (where once aristocrats had been hung);

There's no disappointment in memory, and one's exaggerations are always on the good side.

Behavior was better when cinemas were opulent.