Quotes About Nostalgia

I'm going to hold onto my Blu-ray collection because I really think it's hardware and it's important. I don't want to live in a cloud, all my life.

I just think, who wants new soul? I want my soul to be the same as Otis Redding, I don't wanna have a new one.

I want out of this place.With no reminders."It stings -sulphur tearsin cinnamon rain.

Back when the country was strong, back before Elvis and before the Vietnam war came along.

Maybe the ultimate wound is the one that makes you miss the war you got it in.

The pageant has passed. That day is over. But we linger, loath to think we shall see them no more together - these men, these horses, these colors afield.

When old friends get together, everything else fades to insignificance."- War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death

Star Wars, the original movie, was all the various old genre of pictures: the swashbucklers, the war movies, all those things were put n there in a different look.

...funny how people want a return to the good ole days. Of coarse the good ole days of being a rich white plantation owner. Everyone seems to forget the poor white farmer.

Memory, like love, is an act of imagination, an abandonment and a possession.

At their sewing bee, the girls made a reticule, a small nineteenth-century version of a purse. Krista was glad. "I'm getting a cold," she said. "I can put Kleenex in it." "They didn't have Kleenex back then," said Holly. "That's why I'm hiding it in the bag," Krista replied.

Having a good team of oxen was the nineteenth-century version of macho, like having a fancy car today," said Gene, the oxen trainer. "A farmer was proud of owning a set matched in color and weight." Unlike a car, you can't take a team of oxen for a quick spin around the block; oxen don't do anything quickly.

As the girls changed into their nineteenth-century sleepwear, they all agreed that the nightcaps should stay in the 1800s where they belonged.

After walking on rocks in these shoes all week, I really miss good roads," said Amanda. "One thing I like a lot less here is the bugs," said Hilary. "Wait a minute," said Catherine, "We have the same bugs now, too." "Yeah," Hilary answered, "but they didn't have anything to kill them with back then.

It's not the letter she imagined she would write, but once you start, all the other letters you've ever written in your life have a way of creeping in.

I sure do miss that woman. Smart. Funny. Sweet. She never gave me a moment's trouble." "Gosh, I'm sorry about that. I knew it was boring between you two, but not that bad.

Damn. It looks to me like I just missed the best reunion since Sherman got together with Atlanta.

Of course I remember. I remember my aching back and the drizzle, and the throb of my piercing in the top of my ear. I'd left university because of him. I'd learnt that I didn't want to be anywhere he wasn't, that I physically couldn't stand it. I was eighteen; he was in his early thirties. I came up the lane and found him standing there, under the limes, wearing blue.

All our loves are first loves.

She used to wear pretty clothes and be lively, when she was Minnie Foster, one of the town girls singing in the choir. But that—oh, that was thirty years ago.

Aren't you going to look at it, Verity?" asked Miss Deane. Slowly, I unwrapped it. I saw a small, slim girl with serious eyes and a little pointed face, wearing her second-best dress and posed stiffly beside an artificial rosebush. Standing behind her, rising out of a sort of mist, was a fair-haired young man in a white shirt. There was no doubt as to who it was. It was my half-brother Alexander, and he was smiling.

The arrogance of sixteen! If only I had retained it!

lonely, very lonely to have a past no one else can share.

She smells like chlorine, coconuts, and sunshine.