Nostalgia
Quotes - We take it for granted that life moves forward
“For
they might be parted for hundreds of years, she and Peter; she never wrote a
letter and his were dry sticks; but suddenly it would come over her, If he were
with me now what would he say? --some days, some sights bringing him back to
her calmly, without the old bitterness; which perhaps was the reward of having
cared for people; they came back in the middle of St. James's Park on a fine
morning--indeed they did.”
―
Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway
“What's
this place called?' He told me and, on the instant, it was as though someone
had switched off the wireless, and a voice that had been bawling in my ears,
incessently, fatuously for days beyond number, had suddenly been cut short; an
immense silence followed, empty at first, but gradually, as my outraged sense
regained authority, full of a multitude of sweet and natural and long forgotten
sounds: for he had spoken a name so familiar to me, a conjuror's name of such
ancient power, that, at its mere sound, the phantoms of those haunted late
years began to take flight.”
―
Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited
“Bedouins
believe their Heaven to be a lush paradise of trees and running water; mine was
no different, though my sprinklers were timed.”
―
Gary Clemenceau, Banker's Holiday: A Novel of Fiscal Irregularity
“I
was willing to yield to nostalgia, that melancholy residue of desire.”
―
Marguerite Yourcenar, Memoirs of Hadrian
“A
part of my appreciation for the good which moments bring has come from
awareness and recognition. But it has also come from a correspnding sadness
which arises from their passing. When something that can never quite be
reenacted comes to an end (and all moments are that way), I feel a pensiveness
within. This pensiveness gives my life a quality that might be best described
as bittersweet. And those moments take on double meaning and richness - because
they are here now - and because they will not always be.”
―
Bob Benson
“Dutifully,
the Count put the spoon in his mouth. In an instant, there was the familiar
sweetness of fresh honey—sunlit, golden, and gay. Given the time of year, the
Count was expecting this first impression to be followed by a hint of lilacs
from the Alexander Gardens or cherry blossoms from the Garden Ring. But as the
elixir dissolved on his tongue, the Count became aware of something else
entirely. Rather than the flowering trees of Central Moscow, the honey had a
hint of a grassy riverbank . . . the trace of a summer breeze . . . a
suggestion of a pergola . . . But most of all there was the unmistakable
essence of a thousand apple trees in bloom.
"Nizhny
Novgorod", he said.
And
it was.”
―
Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow
“We
take it for granted that life moves forward. You build memories; you build
momentum.You move as a rower moves: facing backwards.
You
can see where you've been, but not where you’re going. And your boat is steered
by a younger version of you.
It's
hard not to wonder what life would be like facing the other way. Avenoir.
You'd
see your memories approaching for years, and watch as they slowly become real.
You’d
know which friendships will last, which days are important, and prepare for
upcoming mistakes. You'd go to school, and learn to forget.
One
by one you'd patch things up with old friends, enjoying one last conversation
before you
meet
and go your separate ways.
And
then your life would expand into epic drama. The colors would get sharper, the
world would feel bigger.
You'd
become nothing other than yourself, reveling in your own weirdness.
You'd
fall out of old habits until you could picture yourself becoming almost
anything.
Your
family would drift slowly together, finding each other again.
You
wouldn't have to wonder how much time you had left with people, or how their
lives would turn out.
You'd
know from the start which week was the happiest you’ll ever be, so you could
relive it again and again.
You'd
remember what home feels like,
and
decide to move there for good.
You'd
grow smaller as the years pass, as if trying to give away everything you had
before leaving.
You'd
try everything one last time, until it all felt new again.
And
then the world would finally earn your trust, until you’d think nothing of
jumping freely into things, into the arms of other people.
You'd
start to notice that each summer feels longer than the last.
Until
you reach the long coasting retirement of childhood.
You'd
become generous, and give everything back.
Pretty
soon you’d run out of things to give, things to say, things to see.
By
then you'll have found someone perfect; and she'll become your world.
And
you will have left this world just as you found it.
Nothing
left to remember, nothing left to regret, with your whole life laid out in
front of you, and your whole life left behind.”
―
The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows
“Life
used to move much more quickly when I was a girl. We needed to abbreviate just
to keep up.”
―
Gabrielle Zevin, All These Things I've Done
“Growing
up, I always had a soldier mentality. As a kid I wanted to be a soldier, a
fighter pilot, a covert agent, professions that require a great deal of bravery
and risk and putting oneself in grave danger in order to complete the mission.
Even though I did not become all those things, and unless my predisposition, in
its youngest years, already had me leaning towards them, the interest that was
there still shaped my philosophies. To this day I honor risk and sacrifice for
the good of others - my views on life and love are heavily influenced by this.”
―
Criss Jami, Healology
“It
was nostalgic in that painful way nostalgia could be”
―
Kristen Ashley, For You
“We
didn't realize we were making memories, we just knew we were having fun.”
―
A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh
“The
abbreviated exam week meant that Wednesday was the last day of school for us.
And all day long, it was hard not to walk around, thinking about the lastness
of it all.”
―
John Green, Paper Towns
“But
at a certain point we turn round, almost instinctively,
and
see that a gate has been bolted behind us, barring our way back (...)
Then
we understand that time is passing and that one day or another the road must
come to an end.”
―
Dino Buzzati, The Tartar Steppe
“We
get used to things too easily. You think something's tasty the first time you
eat it, but then you start taking it for granted. Never forget your first
impressions.”
―
Hisashi Kashiwai, Los misterios de la taberna Kamogawa
“Isn't
there any heaven where old beautiful dances, old beautiful intimacies prolong
themselves?”
―
Ford Madox Ford, The Good Soldier: A Tale of Passion
“If
nostalgia had a smell, it’d smell like her.”
―
Misba, The Oldest Dance
“If
nostalgia had a smell, it’d smell like her. He closes his eyes, removing the scent
from his mind, just as an evolved Grade A should do—not let little thoughts
infect his inner quiet.”
―
Misba, The Oldest Dance
