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Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

"I think of you when upon the sea the sun flings her beams. I think of you when the moonlight shines in silvery streams. I see you when upon the distant hills the dust awakes; At night when on a fragile bridge the traveler quakes.I hear you when the blows rise on high, with murmur deep. To tread the silent grove where wander I, When all's asleep."

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"I think of you when upon the sea the sun flings her beams. I think of you when the moonlight shines in silvery streams. I see you when upon the distant hills the dust awakes; At night when on a fragile bridge the traveler quakes.I hear you when the blows rise on high, with murmur deep. To tread the silent grove where wander I, When all's asleep."

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"In her final years she would still recall the trip that, with the perverse lucidity of nostalgia, became more and more recent in her memory."

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"You think you can get rid of things, and people too-leave them behind. You don't know yet about the habit they have, of coming back."

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"Summertime. It was a song. It was a season. I wondered if that season would ever live inside of me."

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"Whenever you are transplanted, like me, you will understand how very delightful it is to meet with anything at all like what one has left behind."

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"A Tennyson garden, heavy with scent, languid; the return of the word swoon."

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"Sitting in his old schoolroom on the sofa with little cushions on the arms and looking into Natasha's wildly eager eyes, Rostov was carried back into that world of home and childhood which had no meaning for anyone else, but gave him some of the greatest pleasure in his life."

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"When I was a kid, Toronto streets were deserted and quiet on Sundays, except for the sound of church bells I stood on the sidewalk one December listening to the Christmas bells - I've never forgotten that moment..."

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"Every time I look at you autumn leaves come in between - does it matter they're the color of your hair - or they still fall in my memory?..."

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"All I do is keep on running in my own cozy, homemade void, my own nostalgic silence. And this is a pretty wonderful thing. No matter what anybody else says."

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"If the whole world I once could seeOn free soil stand, with the people freeThen to the moment might I say,Linger awhile. . .so fair thou art."
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"A man's shortcomings are taken from his epoch, his virtues and greatness belong to himself."
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"The human race is a monotonous affair. Most people spend the greatest part of their time working in order to live, and what little freedom remains so fills them with fear that they seek out any and every means to be rid of it."
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"Choose well. Your choice is brief, and yet endless."
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"If a man writes a book, let him set down only what he knows. I have guesses enough of my own."
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