#nos

That night I looked up at those same stars, but I didn't want any of those things. I didn't want Egypt, or France, or far-flung destinations. I just wanted to go back to my life from my childhood, just to visit it, and touch it, and to convince myself that yes, it had been real. ↗

— Jenny Lawson

#nostalgia #life

Now that lilacs are in bloom She has a bowl of lilacs in her room And twists one in her fingers while she talks. "Ah, my friend, you do not know, you do not know What life is, you who hold it in your hands"; (slowly twisting the lilac stalks) "You let it flow from you, you let it flow, And youth is cruel, and has no remorse And smiles at situations which it cannot see." I smile, of course, And go on drinking tea. ↗

— T.S. Eliot

#nostalgia #remorse #tea #youth #life

Alles ist Mist. Aber dann möchte man sich manchmal auf die Erde setzen und sich vor Freude ins Hemd weinen. ↗

— Janosch

#life #life

If you want to be with somebody who gets you, you prefer collusion to desire, safety to excitement (sometimes good things to prefer but not always the things most wanted). The wish to be understood may be our most vengeful demand, may be the way we hang on, as adults, to the grudge against our mothers; the way we never let our mothers of the hook for their not meeting our every need. Wanting to be understood, as adults, can be, among many other things our most violent form of nostalgia. ↗

— Adam Phillips

#nostalgia #understanding #life

Ever poised on that cusp between past and future, we tie memories to souvenirs like string to trees along life’s path, marking the trail in case we lose ourselves around a bend of tomorrow’s road. ↗

— Susan Lendroth

#memory #nostalgia #past #remembering #souvenir

I became quietly seized with that nostalgia that overcomes you when you have reached the middle of your life and your father has recently died and it dawns on you that when he went he took some of you with him. ↗

— Bill Bryson

#middle-age #nostalgia #parents #age

ISCARIOT" "A box of doves I placed beside your chest Liar A stork of silk With rubies in it's nest Fire Of my love Will burn thee to a wizened word For ere to go unheard. A mare of wood Elder, elm and oak Liar Will keep you fair If you jest me no joke Fire Of my love Will burn thee to a wizened word For ere to go unheard. I'm old and bruised But my fate is that of youth Liar Trickster you Be a grisly dragon's tooth Fire Of my love Will burn thee to a wizened word For ere to go unheard. You gashed the heart of my heart Like a Portuguese Witch, I'd planned for you this land But you devoured my hand. ↗

— Marc Bolan

#liar #tyrannosaurus-rex #love

The nostalgia of a moment's love can be an illusionary precipice from which we fall from truth; in heartbreak, what we escape to in the past is what tortures us in the present. ↗

— Mike Norton

#illusion #love #nostalgia #sadness #the-past

These fragments I have shored against my ruins ↗

— T.S. Eliot

#aging #fall #nostalgia #past #age

He said, 'Damianos.' Before Damen could tell him to rise, he heard it again, echoed in another voice, and then another. It was passing over the gathered men in the courtyard, his name in tones of shock and of awe. The steward beside Nikandros was kneeling. And then four of the men in the front ranks. And then more, dozens of men, rank after rank of soldiers. And as Damen looked out, the army was dropping to its knees, until the courtyard was a sea of bowed heads, and silence replaced the murmur of voices, the words spoken over and over again. 'He lives. The King's son lives. Damianos.' ↗

— S.U. Pacat

#damianos #men