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I am not among those who engage in nostalgia, because I think that locks you into a moment in time without thinking about where you are, what needs to be done now.

I wish I could go home. I've been on the road since May. I wonder if my dogs still remember me.

I think anybody who goes away finds you appreciate home more when you return.

We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams.

Memories have huge staying power, but like dreams, they thrive in the dark, surviving for decades in the deep waters of our minds like shipwrecks on the sea bed.

When you finally go back to your old home, you find it wasn't the old home you missed but your childhood.

Are there memories left that are safe from the clutches of phony anniversaries?

I'm not a nostalgic person: I never look back; I always forget.

There are so many happy memories that will be made. You just have to live long enough to get to them.

True nostalgia is an ephemeral composition of disjointed memories.