Nostalgia, the vice of the aged. We watch so many old movies our memories come in monochrome.— Angela Carter
Unconventional Old Memories quotations
To forget is the secret of eternal youth.
One grows old only through memory. There's much too little forgetting.
It's strange indeed how memories can lie dormant in a man's mind for so many years. Yet those memories can be awakened and brought forth fresh and new, just by something you've seen, or something you've heard, or the sight of an old familiar face.
To reminisce with my old friends, a chance to share some memories, and play our songs again.
Favourite stadium? I have good memories of my CL debut at Old Trafford, spectacular atmosphere. The Theatre of Dreams, as they say.
Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you. Others tear you open and leave you in pieces.
The worst memories stick with us, while the nice ones always seem to slip through our fingers.
My most powerful memory was hearing Earl Scruggs on 'The Beverly Hillbillies' as a 5 or 6 year old. That sound just blew me away, shook my head up.
Always have old memories, and young hopes.
To look backward for a while is to refresh the eye, to restore it, and to render it the more fit for its prime function of looking forward.
A past may chase you if you try to escape from it.
.. but once you confront it, it's just an old memory inside you. There's nothing to be afraid of.
Before you know it it's 3 am and you're 80 years old and you can't remember what it was like to have 20 year old thoughts or a 10 year old heart.
The times you lived through, the people you shared those times with — nothing brings it all to life like an old mix tape. It does a better job of storing up memories than actual brain tissue can do. Every mix tape tells a story. Put them together, and they can add up to the story of a life.
Memory is the only thing that binds you to earlier selves;
for the rest, you become an entirely different being every decade or so, sloughing off the old persona, renewing and moving on. You are not who you were, he told her, nor who you will be.
Like an old photograph, time can make a feeling fade, but the memory of a first love never fades away.
Youth lives on hope, old age on memories.
Some of my old memories feel trapped in amber in my brain, lucid and burning, while others are like the wing beat of a hummingbird, an intangible, ephemeral blur.
Everyone has a photographic Memory, some just don't have film.
Return often and take me, beloved sensation, return and take me - When memory of the body awakens, and old desire again runs through the blood; when the lips and skin remember, and the hands feel as if they touch again.
All art is a memory of age-old things, dark things, whose fragments live on in the artist.
There's not a word yet, for old friends who've just met.
You cannot separate the old furniture from the memories and the memories from the old furniture!
Things that were hard to bear are sweet to remember.
Mistakes are like the memories you hide in an attic: old love letters from relationships that tanked, photos of dead relatives, toys from a childhood you miss. Out of sight is out of mind, but somewhere deep inside you know they still exist. And you also know that you're avoiding them.
The memory of things gone is important to a jazz musician.
Things like old folks singing in the moonlight in the back yard on a hot night or something said long ago.
I never saw my grandfather because he had died before I was born, but I have good memories of my grandmother and of how she could play the piano at the old house.
Our old experiences, memories and fears guide us down the present path.
It's not so much that you are the artist; you are the conduit.
What makes old age hard to bear is not the failing of one's faculties, mental and physical, but the burden of one's memories.
The sea can bind us to her many moods, whispering to us by the subtle token of a shadow or a gleam upon the waves, and hinting in these ways of her mournfulness or rejoicing. Always she is remembering old things, and these memories, though we may not grasp them, are imparted to us, so that we share her gaiety or remorse.
It is right that he too should have his little chronicle, his memories, his reason, and be able to recognize the good in the bad, the bad in the worst, and so grow gently old down all the unchanging days, and die one day like any other day, only shorter.
Nothing is more responsible for the good old days than a bad memory.
One of my earliest memories... I knew three full verses of the Star Spangled Banner when I was seven or eight years old. And one of the nuns discovered this phenomenon and I was actually sent around from classroom to classroom to do the whole thing.
It's nine o'clock on a Saturday, the regular crowd shuffles in / There's an old man sitting next to me making love to his tonic and gin / He says, 'Son, can you play me a memory?/ I'm not really sure how it goes / But it's sad and it's sweet, and I knew it complete when I wore a younger man's clothes.'
Dancing is a very living art. It is essentially of the moment, although a very old art. A dancer's art is lived while he is dancing. Nothing is left of his art except the pictures and the memories--when his dancing days are over.
Sometimes you don't know if your memory is because you really experienced it or because you look at your old pictures. I have a nice picture of myself held up by my grandfather and my father standing next to me. We all have the same name - we're all called Anton Corbijn. That's something I cherish.