1980's: not a time period but a state of mind.
I was right when I said I’d never look back. It hurts too much, it drags at your heart till you can’t ever do anything else except look back.
(n.) Homesickness; esp., a severe and sometimes fatal form of melancholia, due to homesickness.
The past will disappear if we forget we existed".
My whole life is out here-the whole of my life...I'd come here naked, as a boy-straight from that river out there-throw my clothes on the floor and climb into that loft and lie there dreaming in the h...
I began a lifelong affair with nostalgia, with only the vaguest notions of what I was nostalgic for.
And I’ll look back at him because I shan’t be able to help it, remembering about being young, and about being made love to and making love, about pain and dancing and not being afraid of death, about...
However, I suppose VH1 *is* selling me something; they're selling nostalgia, which means they're selling my own memories back to me, which means they're selling me to me.
Now that lilacs are in bloomShe has a bowl of lilacs in her roomAnd twists one in her fingers while she talks.Ah, my friend, you do not know, you do not knowWhat life is, you who hold it in your hands...
One thing seems certain. Our galaxy is now in the brief springtime of its life—a springtime made glorious by such brilliant blue-white stars as Vega and Sirius, and, on a more humble scale, our own Su...
Our misconception in viewing the past lies in assuming that doubt and fear, permit, protests, violence and hate were not equally present.
Quien de verdad quiera conservar en la memoria lo sucedido, no debe entregarse a los recuerdos. El recuerdo humano es un proceso demasiado agradable como para retener el pasado; es lo contrario de lo...
Some of my relatives held on to imagined memories the way homeless people hold onto lottery tickets. Nostalgia was their crack cocaine, if you will, and my childhood was littered with the consequences...
The vivid memory of the woods had blossomed into a visceral longing for the Ridge, so immediate that I felt the ghost of my vanished house rise around me, a cold mountain wind thrumming past its walls...
The way you remember or dream about your loved ones - the ones who are gone - you can't stop their endings from jumping ahead of the rest of their stories. You don't get to choose the chronology of wh...
Writing from memory like this, I often feel a pang of dread. What if I've forgotten the most important thing? What if somewhere inside me there is a dark limbo where all the the truly important memori...
Philosophy is really nostalgia, the desire to be at home.
Once a thing is removed from your heart, a trace of it still remains.
You. You are the last page of hundred pages I have written in my journal. Filling its pages with special kind of spoken words without a sound, and the I Love You that's been written and rewritten coun...
It struck her how sad it was that all of them had grown up on top of one another like small animals in a too-small cage, and now would simply scatter. And that would be the end of that. Everything tha...
Have you ever been homesick for someplace that doesn'tactually exist anymore? Someplace that exists only in yourmind?
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