Sloane Crosley Quotes

It becomes increasingly easy, as you get older, to drown in nostalgia.

Nostalgia is not what it used to be.

I don't have a great nostalgia for the past.

Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage we did not take, towards the door we never opened, into the rose garden.

It's funny how close the past is, sometimes. Sometimes it seems as if you could almost reach out and touch it. Only who really wants to?

I'm nostalgic and I do think about a "what if."

Memories, even bittersweet ones, are better than nothing.

I will never forget my beautiful days with you in Shanklin, they are certainly the most pleasant ones of my life. Look, I have tears in my eyes just to think about it. I am furious to be here, it is the end of happiness for a whole year.

I keep my scrapbooks in the car. When I come to a stoplight, I start looking through my past. Sometimes I wish the red lights were longer.

Nostalgia is something we think of as fuzzy. But it's pain. Pain concerning the past.

Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.

Nostalgia often leads to idle speculation.

I'm a nostalgic guy.

Whenever I think of the past, it brings back so many memories.

You have your wonderful memories," people said later, as if memories were solace. Memories are not. Memories are by definition of times past, things gone. Memories are the Westlake uniforms in the closet, the faded and cracked photographs, the invitations to the weddings of the people who are no longer married, the mass cards from the funerals of the people whose faces you no longer remember. Memories are what you no longer want to remember.

They say that Hope is happiness But genuine Love must prize the past; And Mem'ry wakes the thoughts that bless: They rose first -- they set the last. And all that mem'ry loves the most Was once our only hope to be: And all that hope adored and lost Hath melted into memory. Alas! It is delusion all-- The future cheats us from afar: Nor can we be what we recall, Nor dare we think on what we are.

I'd trade all my tomorrows for one single yesterday.

The memory of a particular image is but regret for a particular moment.

I stayed there loving you, though the love made me, not sad but I guess melancholy, for a reason I couldn’t point to.

Sundown, yellow moon, I replay the past I know every scene by heart, they all went by so fast

I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all

I was assailed by memories of a life that wasn't mine anymore, but one in which I'd found the simplest and most lasting joys.

Things always seem fairer when we look back at them, and it is out of that inaccessible tower of the past that Longing leans and beckons.

What happiness is there in just the memory of happiness?

Allie would love what you've done," he remarked. "She was always a softie when it came to things like this." I folded my hands in my lap. "I wish she could be there this weekend." Noah glanced at the stack of letters. I knew he was imagining Allie, and for a brief moment, he looked strangely younger. "So do I," he said.