Jonathan Pryce Quotes

I'm growing old, I delight in the past.

I would have liked the old days.

Nostalgia is, 'Hey, remember the other mall that used to be there?'

A memory is a beautiful thing, it's almost a desire that you miss.

I am not nostalgic for the past.

I love nostalgia.

Drawn to childhood, the old man will seek it in a thousand different ways.

When my wife's Aunt Caroline was in her nineties, she lived with us, and she once remarked: 'Remembrance is sufficient of the beauty we have seen.' I cherish the remembrance of the beauty I have seen. I cherish the grave, compulsive word.

Remember when we didn't live in the future? When we were young, it was not the future yet.

I liked the place I came from. But a lot of what I liked about it was that I had come from there.

Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.

A lot of things you see as a child remain with you... you spend a lot of your life trying to recapture the experience.

Thank God I have the seeing eye, that is to say, as I lie in bed I can walk step by step on the fells and rough land seeing every stone and flower and patch of bog and cotton pass where my old legs will never take me again.

The notion of time bothers me. You look at thirty-year-old photographs and realize how the time has passed.

I'm a nostalgic guy.

The good old days are now.

The good old times—all times when old are good.

I remember myself, age five, sitting on a porch overlooking a very muddy road. The day was rainy. I was wearing rubber boots, yellow - no, not yellow, green - and for all I know, I'm still there.

I remember when I was younger I used to sing that Beatles song, 'When I'm 64', and think that's light years away for me - I was 18 when it came out. Now here I am.

Childhood. I wish I had something to complain about.

There is nothing fine about being a child: it is fine, when we are old, to look back to when we were children.

Never have I enjoyed youth so thoroughly as I have in my old age

Do you remember the time darlin' when everything made more sense in the world? Oh I remember, I remember... when life made more sense... Take me back, take me back, take me way back... to when life made more sense.

Oh, give me back the good old days of fifty years ago,“ has been the cry ever since Adam's fifty-first birthday.

I wish there was a way to know you were in the good old days before you actually left them.