Carol Alt Quotes

I've never graced the cover of a fashion magazine.

'Glamour's always special to me; they gave me one of my first U.K. covers, and I was so excited when I found out I got a cover for it, so, I always, always have a special place in my heart for 'Glamour.'

I think having an American 'Vogue' cover would be incredible.

I feel perhaps my heart is still in China.

Every single model wants to be in 'Sports Illustrated,' and I feel extremely blessed to have that opportunity.

I've watched 'General Hospital' for 35 years. I grew up with it. It holds such a place in my heart.

no person will ever get into my blood as a place can ... People and things pass away, but not places.

I carry thoughts of you like my own personal constellation. How far away you are, my dearest friend, but no farther than those fixed stars in my soul.

Sometimes when I'm alone, I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena.

I am always drawn back to places where I have lived, the houses and their neighborhoods.

I had funny memories, too, but the music was more important to me than anything else.

I'll tell you how you know when you're on something good: when everybody starts to tear up when they're leaving, when they're wrapping for the season. You know, when you say, "All right, we're done with McGillicuddy. That's a wrap for McGillicuddy!" And everybody applauds, but everybody's sad, because McGillicuddy's going to be gone! You know, it's like family going off to college or war. You have this intimate relationship with these people, and then - bam! - they're gone.

That mirror, that's one I hate to let go, he said. That was my daughter's the whole time she was growing up. It probably seen her more than me--everything from a baby up to twenty years old. Sometimes I wonder if all that might still be inside it. Got to make an impression on a thing, reflecting the same person every day.

I love all things, not because they are passionate or sweet-smelling but because, I don't know, because this ocean is yours, and mine: these buttons and wheels and little forgotten treasures, fans upon whose feathers love has scattered its blossoms, glasses, knives and scissors -- all bear the trace of someone's fingers on their handle or surface, the trace of a distant hand lost in the depths of forgetfulness.

You get a strange feeling when you're about to leave a place, I told him, like you'll not only miss the people you love but you'll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you'll never be this way ever again.

I miss us, too. I always have, and probably always will

Nostalgia doesn't make sense, because it's like bringing the memories back to be a special part of my day or to be part of my week. And I'm inside my memories the same way I'm inside my everyday life.

When a band means a lot to you, you build the fantasy more than the reality. Always.

I do hang on to things. I was so happy my father saved his army jacket. I grew up wearing that all through high school.

I don't even remember the season. I just remember walking between them and feeling for the first time that I belonged somewhere.

Memories are not shackles, Franklin, they are garlands.

[T]hese last few days where I've moped around damn near depressed for real, because of people who do not exist. Not really. I can buy them Christmas presents, but there is no way to send them. Sometimes I feel like I should be able to walk into the next room and there they will be, but they won't. These people do not exisit as flesh and blood, but there are different kinds of reality, and there are days when imagination feels very, very real.

I am always nostalgic being in New York. Every neighborhood represents something to me. I lived here until I was 60 years old or so. So it was my life.

Do you miss Susie?" Because it was dark, because Ruth was facing away from her,because Ruth was almost a stranger, Lindsey said what she felt. "More than anyone will ever know.

If I had grown up in that house I couldn't have loved it more, couldn't have been more familiar with the creak of the swing, or the pattern of the clematis vines on the trellis, or the velvety swell of land as it faded to gray on the horizon . . . . The very colors of the place had seeped into my blood.