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Nostalgia Quotes

Browse 1745 quotes about Nostalgia.

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Nostalgia Quotes

“He had seen the end of an era, the sunset of the pioneer. He had come upon it when already its glory was nearly spent. So in the buffalo times a traveller used to come upon the embers of a hunter's fire on the prairie, after the hunter was up and gone; the coals would be trampled out, but the ground was warm, and the flattened grass where he had slept and where his pony had grazed, told the story. This was the very end of the road-making West; the men who had put plains and mountains under the iron harness were old; some were poor, and even the successful ones were hunting for a rest and a brief reprieve from death. It was already gone, that age; nothing could ever bring it back. The taste and smell and song of it, the visions those men had seen in the air and followed, - these he had caught in a kind of afterglow in their own faces, - and this would always be his.”

DeathNostalgiaTravellerRoadVisionsBuffaloHunterWild WestOld WestPioneer
Book:A Lost Lady
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“She’d been hunting for an indescribable thrill, a feeling she remembered from nights out with her friends, but she’d misunderstood where the feeling came from. It wasn’t about drinking and partying in some dingy club. It had been about the people. The constant laughter they shared, too high on each other to care that they were being obnoxious. Group trips to the bathroom like a small army unit, where the mission objective was helping each other squat over filthy toilets without their dresses touching the seat. Belonging.”

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Book:Get a Life, Chloe Brown
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“…suddenly I wanted to go back and be in all the places I’d ever been, every street I’d walked down, every room I’d sat down in. I wanted to see it all again. I tried to remember my life, flipping through Polaroids in my mind. . . . But I knew that even if I could go back, if such a thing were possible with exactitude, in life or in dreams, there was really no point.”

MemoriesMemoryNostalgia
Book:My Year of Rest and Relaxation
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“What shall they say about this moment if there is anything to say at all? And not just this moment we experience, but this period of history. What shall they say about it? And tracing this vast arc to 10,000 years from now, what will matter of all of this? Will it be what we take now as trivial—that faint aroma of petrichor, perhaps—but what, by their archivists, by their categories of prominence, they take to be as quintessential of this holy now? The herald of a cleansing rain, perhaps! How will this story be told and will it do these fleeting seconds justice? Will it betray what we know as now, or will it indeed be truer to the experience of now-then than now-now?”

JusticeEssenceExperienceNostalgiaPhenomenologyHistorical AccuracyThen And NowLost MomentsHoly Moment
Book:Inward and Toward
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“There are many safe places in my bedroom, and with Molly and Kiran's help I searched them all. I found a bundle of dead roses, a homemade CD from America, several guitar picks (how I wish I could see Tom again), a photo of me on Grandad's knee, a sponge shaped like a dinosaur, a T-shirt with teh sleeves chopped off and CRIME PAYS in iron-on letters across the front, a hat that I had when I was five and which was exactly like a hat Sarah used to wear, a packet of banana-flavored chews (why did I keep them?), and a picture of our house that I drew long, long ago on my first day at school. And I found, last of all, in the pocket of a jacket that used to be Indigo's, the diamond ring.”

NostalgiaCassonEngagement Ringnt Ring
Book:Forever Rose
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“El sentimiento de paz que provoca desprenderse de la nostalgia es inigualable a cualquier otro. Cuando no sólo te aterrar mirar cara a cara a los fantasmas del pasado, sino que a prendes a mirarlos con el carro de todo lo compartido, nuestra alma deja de temblar pro fin. Acaricias las cicatrices que luces on orgullo, porque sabes que detrás de ellas sólo hay una lección aprendida, y conquistas un equilibrio que creías imposible.”

NostalgiaAlmaSentimientoFantasmasCicatricesImposibleCompartido
Book:Amapolas en octubre
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“The Road Back The car is heavy with children tugged back from summer, swept out of their laughing beach, swept out while a persistent rumour tells them nothing ends. Today we fret and pull on wheels, ignore our regular loss of time, count cows and others while the sun moves over like an old albatross we must not count nor kill. There is no word for time. Today we will not think to number another summer or watch its white bird into the ground Today, all cars, all fathers, all mothers, all children and lovers will have to forget about that thing in the sky, going around like a persistent rumour that will get us yet.”

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Author:Anne Sexton
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“Some people say they can't remember their childhoods at all. That early morning when they waited for others, bouncing the ball and watching its shadow, is lost to them. The ant hills on the sidewalk cracks, the grasshopper that fell in the storm drain, the ball too deep in the stickerbushes to ever be recovered, a morning spent waiting. What reason would we have for remembering any of it? Yet when we do, there is always a feeling of surprise and amazement over this little bit of lost world. Who knows which moments make us who we are? Some of them? All of them? The ones we never really thought of as anything special? How many kickball games did I play? And what would I give to have just one more ups. What would I give to see them all again. Chuckie, roll the ball this way. Chuckie, roll me a good one.”

ChildhoodNostalgiaLonging For Past
Book:One Hundred Demons
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“But as I drove away and turned back in the car to take what promised to be my last view of the house, I felt that I was leaving a part of myself behind, and that wherever I went afterwards I should feel the lack of it, and search for it hopelessly, as ghosts are said to do, frequenting the spots where they buried material treasures without which they cannot pay their way to the netherworld.”

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Book:Brideshead Revisited
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“Punks are nihilists who see no tomorrow at all, and dwell in a culture of death music and death imagery. Appropriately, Return focuses on a group of punks who bear names like Trash, Suicide, and Scum, their very names indicating their lack of respect for the world, and themselves. They see themselves as nothing in a world that doesn't value them, and won't survive an apocalypse.”

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Book:Horror Films of the 1980s
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“La plus violente douleur qu'on puisse éprouver, certes, est la perte d'un enfant pour une mère, et la perte de la mère pour un homme. Cela est violent, terrible, cela bouleverse et déchire; mais on guérit de ces catastrophes comme des larges blessures saignantes. Or, certaines rencontres, certaines choses entr'aperçues, devinées, certains chagrins secrets, certaines perfidies du sort, qui remuent en nous tout un monde douloureux de pensées, qui entr'ouvrent devant nous brusquement la porte mystérieuse des souffrances morales, compliquées, incurables, d'autant plus profondes qu'elles semblent bénignes, d'autant plus cuisantes qu'elles semblent presque insaisissables, d'autant plus tenaces qu'elles semblent factices, nous laissent à l'âme comme une traînée, un goût d'amertume, une sensation de désenchantement dont nous sommes longtemps à nous débarrasser.”

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Book:Contes de la Bécasse
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“Whenever they took a break, the five of them gathered to talk. They got to know each other better, sharing their ideas and opening up about their dreams, as well as their problems. And when the summer camp was over, each one of them felt they were in the right place, where they needed to be, with the perfect companions. A unique sense of harmony developed between them— each one needed the other four and, in turn, shared the sense that they too were needed. The whole convergence was like a lucky but entirely accidental chemical fusion, something that could only happen once. You might gather the same materials and make identical preparations, but you would never be able to duplicate the result.”

FriendshipNostalgia
Author:Haruki Murakami
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“Nostalgia is not indulgence. Nostalgia tells us we are in the presence of imminent revelation, about to break through the present structures held together by the way we have remembered: something we thought we understood but that we are now about to fully understand, something already lived but not fully lived, issuing not from our future but from something already experienced; something that was important, but something to which we did not grant importance enough, something now wanting to be lived again, at the depth to which it first invited us but which we originally refused. Nostalgia is not an immersion in the past, nostalgia is the first annunciation that the past as we know it is coming to an end.”

PastUnderstandingHistoryMemoryNostalgiaRemembranceRemembering
Book:Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words
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“And numerous indeed are the hearts to which Christmas brings a brief season of happiness and enjoyment. How many families, whose members have been dispersed and scattered far and wide, in the restless struggles of life, are then reunited, and meet once again in that happy state of companionship and mutual goodwill, which is a source of such pure and unalloyed delight; and one so incompatible with the cares and sorrows of the world, that the religious belief of the most civilised nations, and the rude traditions of the roughest savages, alike number it among the first joys of a future condition of existence, provided for the blessed and happy! How many old recollections, and how many dormant sympathies, does Christmas time awaken! We write these words now, many miles distant from the spot at which, year after year, we met on that day, a merry and joyous circle. Many of the hearts that throbbed so gaily then, have ceased to beat; many of the looks that shone so brightly then, have ceased to glow; the hands we grasped, have grown cold; the eyes we sought, have hid their lustre in the grave; and yet the old house, the room, the merry voices and smiling faces, the jest, the laugh, the most minute and trivial circumstances connected with those happy meetings, crowd upon our mind at each recurrence of the season, as if the last assemblage had been but yesterday! Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childish days; that can recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth; that can transport the sailor and the traveller, thousands of miles away, back to his own fireside and his quiet home!”

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Book:The Pickwick Papers
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