Letty Cottin Pogrebin Quotes

I tend to live in the past because most of my life is there.

You drive past your old high school, and even if everybody treated you terribly, you still go take a look, don't you?

As travel pushes me forward, memory keeps dragging me backward.

That's a part of me going back to what I used to do.

My past is very interesting, and I treasure it, but to write about it, it's just not on my radar.

The past is never where you think you left it.

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 hate looking backward, but every once in a while it sneaks up on you.

My greatest inspiration is memory.

I'm not the sort to wallow in nostalgia about the good old days.

It's hard to watch something you've done many years ago.

I can look back over my earlier music, and it takes me back to the place I was emotionally.

I like to spend time in the past, with the things that have been important to me.

I'm not particularly fond of the past, but I do ramble on about it quite a bit.

Acting brings up a lot of the past. I use my memories, whether they're good or bad.

When I look back to my childhood, many concrete scenes come to my mind, good ones and bad ones.

Tonight, I feel like my whole body is made out of memories. I'm a mix-tape, a cassette that's been rewound so many times you can hear the fingerprints smudged on the tape.

Every man is obsessed by the memories of his own youth.

Doesn't one always think of the past, in a garden with men and women lying under the trees? Aren't they one's past, all that remains of it, those men and women, those ghosts lying under the trees ... one's happiness, one's reality?

Looking back doesn't have to be painful.

I'll take lying in your arms tonight over and above any love I've known. Memories may find me, but they'll always be behind me. I'll take today over yesterday, anyday.

Memory is the medium of the must-have-been.

All pasts are like poems; one can derive a thousand things, but not live in them.

Every man who has lived for fifty years has buried a whole world or even two; he has grown used to its disappearance and accustomed to the new scenery of another act: but suddenly the names and faces of a time long dead appear more and more often on his way, calling up series of shades and pictures kept somewhere, "just in case," in the endless catacombs of the memory, making him smile or sigh, and sometimes almost weep.

The past is a curious thing. It's with you all the time. I suppose an hour never passes without your thinking of things that happened ten or twenty years ago, and yet most of the time it's got no reality, it's just a set of facts that you've learned, like a lot of stuff in a history book. Then some chance sight or sound or smell, especially smell, sets you going, and the past doesn't merely come back to you, you're actually IN the past. It was like that at this moment.