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Nothing revives the past so completely as a smell that was once associated with it.

Just because someone's dead doesn't mean it's over. My grandfather died more than 25 years ago, but I still think of him a lot and smell his smell.

The beauty of the past belongs to the past.

For me, the past is dead. Can't go back.

I don't believe necessarily the past is in the past. It's eternal, it's all around us.

The past always looks better than it was. It's only pleasant because it isn't here.

Past is past.

Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.

I am not nostalgic for the past.