Lake Bell Quotes

My favorite things often have a story behind them and are usually handmade or discovered at a flea market.

I tend to like antique things. Something can be old, but it can be timeless.

I love everything that's old, - old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wine.

My father's mother was from Liverpool and she had this very beautiful English china. I only wanted to drink my cocoa out of my grandmother's cup and saucer.

One of the things that attracts me to vintage and antique things is they have stories, and even if I don't know the stories, I make them up.

From Blue Valentine I kept my wedding ring. I actually kept it on for a while. After the shooting had stopped, I was still wearing it – I couldn’t quite take it off – and now I keep it above the kitchen sink where I do dishes, as a little memento.

Old things are better than new things, because they've got stories in them, Ethan.

I wear jewellery that I never take off. I have a ring and two necklaces. I always have them on and get scared when I have to take them off for photo shoots. The ring is my mum's mum's mum's, and she gave it to me for my 18th birthday. The necklace is the same one that my sister has. She's called Hannah, and the name is the chain.

There are friends with whom we share neither interests nor any particular experiences, friends with whom we never correspond, whom we seldom meet and then only by chance, but whose existence nonetheless has for us a special if uncanny meaning. For me the Eiffel Tower is just such a friend, and not merely because it happens to be the symbol of a city, for Paris leaves me neither hot nor cold. I first became aware of this attachment of mine when reading in the paper about plans for its demolition, the mere thought of which filled me with alarm.

When we lost something precious, and we'd looked and looked and still couldn't find it, then we didn't have to be completely heartbroken. We still had that last bit of comfort, thinking one day, when we grow up, and we were free to travel around the counry, we would always go and find it in Norfolk...And that's why years and years later, that day Tommy and I found another copy of that lost tape of mine in a town on the Norfolk coast, we didn't just think it pretty funny; we both felt deep down some tug, some old wish to believe again in something that was once close to our hearts.

There is a great good in returning to a landscape that has had extraordinary meaning in one's life. It happens that we return to such places in our minds irresistibly. There are certain villages and towns, mountains and plains that, having seen them walked in them lived in them even for a day, we keep forever in the mind's eye. They become indispensable to our well-being; they define us, and we say, I am who I am because I have been there, or there.

The objects that we have known in better days are the main props that sustain the weight of our affections, and give us strength to await our future lot.

When I saw my box after that, it was even more special for me.

There's always something about home that's special.

Then I turned the page and at the top it said THINGS I MISS ABOUT M and there was a list of 15 things, and the first was THE WAY HE HOLDS THINGS. I did not understand how you can miss the way somebody holds things.

I tried to throw a yo-yo away. It was impossible.

That corner of the world smiles for me more than anywhere else.

Everything in the least connected with him has value for me; if someone even mentions his name it is like a little present to me-and I long to mention it myself

Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, We love the play-place of our early days; The scene is touching, and the heart is stone, That feels not at that sight, and feels at none.

The thing for me though, is that songs are good depending on the memories I have with them.

He read the letter again, but could not take in any more meaning than he had done the first time and was reduced to staring at the handwriting itself. She had made her g's the same way he did : he searched through the letter for every one of them, and each felt like a friendly little wave glimpsed from behind a veil. The letter was an incredible treasure, proof that Lily Potter had lived, really lived, that her warm hand had once moved across this parchment, tracing ink into these letters, these words, words about him, Harry, her son.

Home! With what different sensations different people pronounce and hear that word pronounced!

It’s hard to throw away history. It was like you were throwing away a part of yourself.

For women live much more in the past...they attach themselves to places.

The idea of you is a part of my mind; you influence my likes and dislikes, all my tastes, hundreds of times when I don't realize it. You really are a part of me. In the course of twenty crowded years one parts with many illusions... I did not wish to lose the early ones. Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen again.