Nostalgic Quotes

“We were together. I forget the rest.”
― Walt Whitman

“Once you embrace your value, talents and strengths, it neutralizes when others think less of you.”
― Rob Liano

“Nostalgia is an illness
for those who haven't realized
that today
is tomorrow's nostalgia.”
― Zeena Schreck

“Better to have it and not need it, then need it and not have it. Is that your logic?”
― R. Gerry Fabian, Just Out Of Reach

“I love how summer just wraps it’s arms around you like a warm blanket.”
― Kellie Elmore

“Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?”
― Charles Bukowski

“Okay then, the blood has dried into the shirt so as I cut it away, it may sting some as I pull it away. Can you be brave for me?”
― R. Gerry Fabian, Just Out Of Reach

“I want you to tell your aunt that she must convince your uncle to get a telephone installed. They are too old to live out there with no way to communicate with the outside world.”
― R. Gerry Fabian, Just Out Of Reach

“for those memories are now
just like these little kittens
I hold in my hands

those can be kissed
and treasured
but not held too tightly.”
― Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence

“Write me a story where there is no ending, Kitt.”
― Rebecca Ross, Ruthless Vows

“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

“Some stories are rooted in adventure, some in strife. Others are born of the heart, and the horrors and the joys locked therein are often immeasurable, and make us truly wonder what became of those children we once were.”
― David E. Hilton, Kings of Colorado

“Because we didn’t have a lot of money, presents were few and heartfelt. I wrote letters to Santa and dreamed about my gifts, looked at the Sears & Roebuck or Monkey Ward catalog and dog-eared pages so I could revisit them often.”
― Larada Horner-Miller, Hair on Fire: A Heartwarming & Humorous Christmas Memoir

“Too much time will do that to you. Blur the edges between your memories and your imagination until everything feels like something you saw in a movie instead of your life.”
― Kami Garcia, Beautiful Redemption

“A strange breeze rustled through the clearing, temporarily overpowering the stink of trash and murk. It brought the smell of berries and wildflowers and clean rainwater, things that might've once been in these woods. Suddenly I was nostalgic for something I'd never knew.”
― Rick Riordan, The Lightning Thief

“Remember when Zayn left one direction?? This is like that, but much fewer people care.”
― Gaby Dunn, Allison Raskin, I Hate Everyone But You

“I had the sense of Sunday evening, or the journey back from the airport after a holiday. The feeling of things coming to an end.”
― Abigail Dean, Girl A

“Seven Heinz packets dissolved in boiled New York tap. Mix with a plastic spoon in a Styrofoam cup. Serve with broken saltines, if available. Ketchup soup.
He sucked back tears as he stirred.
When the ghost materialized, a kid in his teens, Kostya just wanted to hug him.
That dish was proof--- the aftertastes didn't have to be sophisticated. They didn't even have to taste good. To anyone who tried this Campbell's Tomato knock-off without knowing what it was, it probably ranked somewhere between awful and inedible. But that was the thing about food you ate when you had nothing: the smallest things--- warmth, crunch, calories, someone making it for you, taking care of you even if only in some small way, or making it for yourself, proving that you could survive even when the world didn't want you to--- could make it the best thing you ever ate.”
― Daria Lavelle, Aftertaste

“Irish Whiskey. Not Jameson. Not Teeling. Sexton. Strong and toasty, honeyed fruit stinging his nose. Sweet sponge cake. Soft, so soft, sopping with booze, oozing into his throat. Coconut Cruzan. Flavored Dominican rum, the scent of an island breeze. Beeswax, from a birthday candle, crackling between his teeth.
He'd know that rum cake anywhere. Warm and heady, half-Irish, half-Dominican, with the promise of a good time. Just like the man himself.
In all the time they'd lived together, Frankie had never had a sweet tooth--- preferred heat and spice, salt to sugar--- but whenever he went home to his mama's, he'd come back with a Tupperware of this. It was what she made every birthday, every holiday, every time her baby visited. It was the stuff of Frankie's childhood memories, the magic of his sweetest moments baked into a bundt and soused with sweet booze--- a shot of Cruzan for his 'lita, his mama's mama; a shot of Sexton for his grandmam--- and served to him in increasingly large slices as he aged up and learned to hold his liquor.
Kostya could almost see him, coming through the door with the container swinging in a plastic bag, digging a spoon out of the drawer, leaning over the kitchen counter to shovel it into his mouth, no plate, no chair, just a look of ecstatic nostalgia on his face.
Y'all can have the foie and lobster, he once said, scooping crumbs into his mouth. This is my death row wish. Want a bite?”
― Daria Lavelle, Aftertaste

“We once climbed into bed as though between the sheets
was a valley where dinosaurs still lived.
And how we would explore them with a flashlight
catching these triceratops and brontosauruses.
But even he was opened with the dripping teeth of reality.”
― Anis Mojgani, Songs From Under The River

“I tried not to lose myself in the busy pattern of red, orange and brown chrysanthemums woven into the carpet”
― Iqbal Hussain, Northern Boy

“RECOMMENDED by the US Review… ‘well-written, interesting, and humorous’ with ‘a level of substance’” (Carol Anderson).”
― M. Chris polo

“Spirit that could not be broken. You do not yield. She would endure it again, if asked. She would do it. Every brutal hour and bit of agony. And it would hurt, and she would scream, but she’d face it.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Kingdom of Ash

“[...] je chanterai pour les personnes tristes qui collent leur tête contre leur radio. (70)”
― Lula Carballo

“Pero él siempre está en el centro del llano, círculo de espejismos donde se funde la sabana caldeada por el sol antes de convertirse en cielo.”
― Rómulo Gallegos, Cantaclaro, le cavalier errant

“No matter how much you try to make things change, sometimes they can't. You want to stay in stages of your life that you'll never be able to get back. But that's that... Nothing lasts forever.
And if you just be yourself, you can hope everyone will find it ok.”
― Calvare

“Nobody tells you that healing can fall apart because of a scent, a song, or a photo you weren’t prepared to come across.”
― Abhysheq Shukla

“Nostalgia feels as a sadness because it’s heavy. Thoughts bring moments, and these moments bring weight. It’s not ever truly sadness, but bittersweet. It’s like our hearts calling back to times that moved us, moments that linger. Even with its weight, there’s a quaint beauty in that pull towards what used to be.”
― Dominic Riccitello

“I haven't thought about MASH in years. We used to love playing the fortune-telling game. Sitting crossed-legged on out sleeping bags, we'd imagine who we might become someday, painstakingly trying to rig the game to make it match our ideal futures, as if an of the options we listed might actually come true.”
― Laura Marie Meyers, The MASH Up

“Everywhere I look there are truffles and bonbons, caramels and pralines artfully arranged in gleaming glass-and-wood cases around the store. Under a glass dome on the counter sits a very special collection of ruby chocolate truffles filled with rose and cardamom cream and adorned with gold sprinkles. Those are not for sale. They’re only for guests who come in looking weary or stressed or heartbroken. They’re a gift for anyone who looks like they need a little burst of courage.
I gaze around in satisfaction. The shop looks exactly as I dreamed it would, with dark wood floors, big light-filled windows, and a few whimsical decorations. I got my tree at last— painted silver with twinkly lights and chocolate ornaments, and a bird’s nest of spun chocolate with colorful chocolate eggs perched in the branches. There’s a big, black old-fashioned cash register at the longest counter, and behind it a mural a local artist painted depicting a beautiful meadow of wildflowers sloping down to a whitecapped sea. It’s elegant and a touch quirky and exactly what I had in mind. Well, except for the case of fudge prominently displayed in front of one of the big windows. I thought I was done with fudge, but it turns out that making a couple of batches a week actually feels nostalgic. Seeing the fudge now makes me smile and think of Dad. I believe he would have loved how this is turning out.”
― Rachel Linden, A Sprinkle of Sweet Serendipity