I miss that world from the safe distance of memory. — Maureen Corrigan, Leave Me Alone, I'm Reading: Finding and Losing Myself in Books
I miss that world from the safe distance of memory. — Maureen Corrigan, Leave Me Alone, I'm Reading: Finding and Losing Myself in Books
I miss that world from the safe distance of memory. — Maureen Corrigan, Leave Me Alone, I'm Reading: Finding and Losing Myself in Books
I miss that world from the safe distance of memory. — Maureen Corrigan, Leave Me Alone, I'm Reading: Finding and Losing Myself in Books
I miss that world from the safe distance of memory. — Maureen Corrigan, Leave Me Alone, I'm Reading: Finding and Losing Myself in Books
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I miss that world from the safe distance of memory.

— Maureen Corrigan, Leave Me Alone, I'm Reading: Finding and Losing Myself in Books
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nostalgia

More “Nostalgia” Quotes

I didn't really want to come back here and again have to feel like my lungs were drowning in this perverse nostalgia. — John Green, Paper Towns
For a long moment we didn't move. We just stared at each other. So much time had passed since our eyes last met. So much — RJ Arkhipov
Washingtonians love the "So-and-so is spinning in his grave" cliché. Someone is always speculating about how some great — Mark Leibovich, This Town: Two Parties and a Funeral — plus plenty of valet parking! — in America’s Gilded Capital
The whiff of ocean on the southern breeze and the smell of burning asphalt brought back memories of summers past. It had — Haruki Murakami
What Will Linger/Hollow of Him - They crept so quietly back. Mere hints of words, at first, then whispers in the loud ec — RJ Arkhipov
It is always the same. Whether you are walking or going by train, the way always seems shorter the second time than the — Erich Kästner
Wendy’s house, unlike many in Cape Breton, had three floors, along with a basement and attic. Aside from Wendy’s bedroom — Rebecca McNutt, Smog City
Woman lost (skin deep) like a damn fine thread in the fireWoman of the world caught up in your black machinationsI was a — Abigail George, Feeding The Beasts
He smelled the odor of the pine boughs under him, the piney smell of the crushed needles and the sharper odor of the res — Ernest Hemingway, For Whom the Bell Tolls
Pretty mountains, pretty river, bumpy but pleasant tar road... old buildings, old people on a front porch... strange how — Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values
This song always kills me, I said. She sighed, and then gave up. Why? Oh, I don't know. It makes me feel nostalgia for a — Michael Chabon, The Mysteries of Pittsburgh
The memory of the past did not redeem the future, as he insisted on believing. — Gabriel García Márquez