Now and then I see a balloon caught in the power lines, holding on, waving, flapping softly in the evening air, and I wonder if somebody in some faraway city tried to send it to heaven the way my mother and I used to do.
What seems real one moment is fiction the nextand gone out of existence the moment after that. Nostalgia is the greatest enemy of truth, and change our only constancy.
-
David Budbill
It was nostalgic in that painful way nostalgia could be
-
Kristen Ashley
We cannot escape the longing, no matter what life we choose. We’re either longing for people, places or times gone by, which are essentially the same things: memories. And, whether or not we travel, the older we get, the more memories we collect. Nostalgia is...
-
Anthony Marais
I nodded, trying to imagine the very particular sadness of a vanished childhood yogurt now found only in France. It was a very special sort of sadness, individual, and in its inability to induce sympathy, in its tuneless spark, it bypassed poetry and entered science.
-
Lorrie Moore
The 'what should be' never did exist, but people keep trying to live up to it. There is no 'what should be, ' there is only what is.
-
Lenny Bruce
More Quotes By Kenny Porpora
I’d like them to appreciate the power of the individual–and I don’t mean me; I mean the power each person has to make choices and be accountable for himself or herself. I’ve noticed that people are quick to put you in a category–if you come...
To the members of my family who are no longer with us, I’d like to say I’m sorry. There is a quote by Stephen Dunn I’ve always loved; he says, “Our parents died at least twice, the second time when we forgot their stories.” I...
I ask for tons of notebooks for my birthday, the ones with college ruled lines, and I carry them with me, pretend they're my friends, and write anything that comes to mind. Something about my stories makes me happy, allows me to drift away a...
We met in a school elevator, and he could tell from the way I spoke that we had some sadness in common.
I remember watching those balloons as a little boy, each fall, wondering if someday I, too, would be nothing but a balloon in the sky, soaring towards the sun until I begin to fall slowly back to earth and into the hands of a stranger.
