Lyndon B. Johnson Quotes

I always feel honored to meet people who ever met my mum. It means a lot to me.

You know, I have the best parents in the world and I got really, really lucky because they think that everything I do is Oscar-worthy.

I think about my mother every day. But usually the thoughts are fleeting - she crosses my mind like a spring cardinal that flies past the edge of your eye: startling, luminous, lovely... gone.

I do not have time to sit down and regret anything although sometimes I wish I had been able to see more of my parents while they were alive and have done more for them.

I always make a distinction between nostalgia and sentimentality. Nostalgia is genuine - you mourn things that actually happened.

I regret not taking my 83-year-old mother to the Oscars the year I won. She deserved the Oscar for giving up so much for me.

My parents are incredible, and they did incredible things.

Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear

Sharp nostalgia, infinite and terrible, for what I already possess.

I'm very proud of my daughter. She accomplished a whole lot in the short time that she had here... she was a very wonderful person.

Anyone who doesn't miss the past never had a mother.

I would like to have seen my sons growing up.

The most wonderful thing I hear is people coming up and saying 'Thank you for my childhood', which still blows my mind but is very sweet.

My mother is a beauty.

It's true what they say: 'You don't appreciate what you've got until it's gone.' I miss love. I miss being looked after.

The paradox is, I can't miss the good things about my father while he is alive, but I will of course miss him... when he is dead.

You don't appreciate things until they're gone. For me, I miss my friends; I don't miss boxing, I miss the camaraderie.

You don't miss what you never had.

Thank God I have the seeing eye, that is to say, as I lie in bed I can walk step by step on the fells and rough land seeing every stone and flower and patch of bog and cotton pass where my old legs will never take me again.

I look back with a mix of emotions: sadness for the people who are gone, nostalgia for times that have passed, but immense gratitude for the wonderful opportunities that came my way.

I didn't appreciate Brooklyn until I left it.

I thought of my father and felt a deep sorrow that he should no longer be alive, and that I could not go to him and tell him that I had been awarded the Nobel Prize. I knew that no one would have been happier than he to hear this.

I get emotional when young people get nostalgic about my work. That's why it's called nostalgia. Sometimes I even cry.

My wife is the most wonderful woman in the world, and my parents are the most extraordinary father and mother.

If I could go back in time, I'd return to when my parents were alive and appreciate them more than I did when I was growing up.