My life is very exciting now. Nostalgia for what? It's like climbing a staircase. I'm on the top of the staircase, I look behind and see the steps. That's where I was. We're here right now. Tomorrow, we'll be someplace else. So why nostalgia?

Comics? Honestly, that's more a matter of nostalgia for me. I think most of that energy has gone to my love of literature and my love of film.

True nostalgia is an ephemeral composition of disjointed memories.

Sharp nostalgia, infinite and terrible, for what I already possess.

I grow plants for many reasons: to please my eye or to please my soul, to challenge the elements or to challenge my patience, for novelty or for nostalgia, but mostly for the joy in seeing them grow.

There's a certain nostalgia and romance in a place you left.

Nostalgia often leads to idle speculation.

Why have we had to invent Eden, to live submerged in the nostalgia of a lost paradise, to make up utopias, propose a future for ourselves?

Everything can be killed except nostalgia for the kingdom, we carry it in the color of our eyes, in every love affair, in everything that deeply torments and unties and tricks.

I don't play nostalgia acts. I don't play nostalgia shows.

Nostalgia, the vice of the aged. We watch so many old movies our memories come in monochrome.

Soon, nostalgia will be another name for Europe.

Every act of rebellion expresses a nostalgia for innocence and an appeal to the essence of being.

It is one of the paradoxes of American literature that our writers are forever looking back with love and nostalgia at lives they couldn't wait to leave.

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