I find myself becoming increasingly nostalgic for the past, but after all I suppose that is the only thing one can be nostalgic about.

Sentiment is intellectualized emotion; emotion precipitated, as it were, in pretty crystals by the fancy

Those you can't be,teach!

Memory takes a lot of poetic licence. It omits some details; others are exaggerated, according to the emotional value of the articles it touches, for memory is seated predominantly in the heart. The interior is therefore rather dim and poetic.

I miss it every minute, and I have no wish at all to go back.

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.