And the farther I walked away, the more upset I got, at the loss of one of the few stable and unchanging docking-points in the world that I had taken for granted: familiar faces, glad greetings: hey m...
Above all, staring at my old bedroom ceiling, I feel safe. Cocooned from the world; wrapped up in cotton wool. No one can get me here. No one even knows I'm here. I won't get any nasty letters and I w...
(n.) Homesickness; esp., a severe and sometimes fatal form of melancholia, due to homesickness.
Nostalgia for the 20th century brain helps nobody.
Nelle notti d’inverno, mentre faceva cuocere la minestra nel camino, soffriva la nostalgia del caldodel suo retrobottega, il ronzio del sole nei mandorli polverosi, il fischio del treno nel sopore del...
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.
NW" is full of split selves, people alienated from the very things they thought defined them. Their nostalgia -- for old movies, old songs, buses they don't ride anymore -- is less a salve than a form...
The more vast the amount of time we've left behind us, the more irresistible is the voice calling us to return to it. This pronouncement seems to state the obvious and yet it is false. Men grow old, t...
Nostalgia was diagnosed [as a medical illness] at a time when art and science had not yet entirely severed their umbilical ties and when the mind and body internal and external well-being were treated...
In theory momentos serve to bring back the moment. In fact they serve only to make clear how inadequately I appreciated the moment when it was here. How inadequately I appreciated the moment when it w...
He knew very well that his memory detested him, that it did nothing but slander him; therefore he tried not to believe it and to be more lenient toward his own life. But that didn't help: he took no p...
Din splendorile cafelei de odineoară, neschimbat rămăsese doar mangalul.
Which one of us has never felt, walking through the twilight or writing down a date from his past, that he has lost something infinite?
PatriotismBreathes there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, 'This is my own, my native land!' Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd As home his footsteps he hath turn'dFrom...
She walked down the lawn and surveyed the world as they'd both seen it--the wild limbs of the leaning apple tree, the golden-brown evening sky, the black silhouettes of the mountains. The trunk and th...
[I]t is precisely such a paradox that lies at the heart of nostalgia - for nostalgia is about a fantasy that never takes place, one that maintains itself by not being fulfilled.
Some say that time is like water that flows around us (like a stone in the river) and some say we flow with time (like a twig floating on the surface of the water).
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.
He decided that we suffer from great temporal homesickness for the decade we were born in.
And so their memories took on potential, which is of course how our greatest nostalgias are born.
And except on a certain kind of winter evening—six-thirty in the Seventies, say, already dark and bitter with a wind off the river, when I would be walking very fast toward a bus and would look in the...