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Quote by Aristóteles

“Las penas y lamentos tienen como consecuencia un cierto placer, ya que hay un pesar a causa de la ausencia, pero un placer por el recuerdo, por ver en cierto modo al amado, lo que hacía y cómo era”

Quote by Aristóteles

Book:The Art of Rhetoric
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The Art of Rhetoric

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Aristóteles

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“One night at the Old Vicarage that winter, we listened to Ivor Novello's "Perchance to Dream" on the wireless. It was only a few years old then, and its small, haunting, fragile hit-song 'We'll Gather Lilacs' was still a tune that one heard constantly, on the wireless, from orchestras in restaurants, being whistled in the street. To this day I have only to hear the first notes, in some programme of 'Golden Oldies', to go straight back to that time. What an arid place this world would be without nostalgia.”

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Book:Blue Remembered Hills: A Recollection
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“Eighteen years have gone by, and still I can bring back every detail of that day in the meadow. Washed clean of summer's dust by days of gentle rain, the mountains wore a deep, brilliant green. The October breeze set white fronds of head-tall grass swaying. One long streak of cloud hung pasted across a dome of frozen blue. It almost hurt to look at that far-off sky. A puff of wind swept across the meadow and through her hair before it slipped into the woods to rustle branches and send back snatches of distant barking- a hazy sound that seemed to reach us from the doorway of another world. We heard no other sounds. We met no other people. We saw only two bright, red birds leap startled from the center of the meadow and dart into the woods. As we ambled along, Naoko spoke to me of wells.”

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“Nostalgia is possibly the greatest of the lies that we all tell ourselves. It is the glossing of the past to fit the sensibilities of the present. For some, it brings a measure of comfort, a sense of self and of source, but others I fear take these altered memories too far, and because of that paralyze themselves to the realities about them. How many people wonder for that past, simpler and better world, I wonder? Without ever recognizing that truth that perhaps it was they who were simpler and better, and not the world about them.”

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“It was like going back to a childhood home after decades away. You knew it intimately and saw past the changes time had wrought, the nostalgia seeping into you as forgotten memories sprang up, but it wasn’t quite right. It didn’t belong to you anymore, and you were left torn by the desire that things be as they once were, and the realization that the present was as it should be.”

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“Ni mi madre, que durmió junto a él veinte años, supo del espanto que atenazó su vida y su imaginación desde entonces y para siempre. Todos creímos que se le había olvidado. Pero ahí estaba el abismo del que nunca hablaba, ahí, en la nostalgia con que se reclinó en la puerta de nuestra casa, a ver cómo sus tres hijos mayores nos íbamos a vivir a la ciudad de México.”

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