Sentimental Value Quotes

There is something very sensual about a letter. The physical contact of pen to paper, the time set aside to focus thoughts, the folding of the paper into the envelope, licking it closed, addressing it, a chosen stamp, and then the release of the letter to the mailbox - are all acts of tenderness.

Never go back to a place where you have been happy. Until you do it remains alive for you. If you go back it will be destroyed.

For me, clothing is nothing without the story behind it. Everything I own evokes some kind of memory.

With the death of my father, it wasn't just the objects of everyday life that had changed; even the most ordinary street scenes had become irreplaceable mementos of a lost world whose every detail figured in the meaning of the whole.

I don't know why, but rain comes into my head the minute I think of my childhood.

Three months before he died, I began to steal things from my father's house. I wandered around barefoot and slipped objects into my pockets. I took blush, toothpaste, two chipped finger bowls in celadon blue, a bottle of nail polish, a pair of worn patent-leather ballet slippers, and four faded white pillowcases the color of old teeth.

You can't change what Memphis means to me, what Memphis has meant to me. It's a special place for me. There's no doubt.

I either write the book or sell the jewels. And I'm kinda sentimental about the jewels.

I try not to look at my old stuff or my new stuff, really. I'm not a fan.

When I was little, I got to pick my hair ribbon from my mother's collection that hung over her dressing-table mirror. I have an entire room of ribbons in my New York apartment.

There was a train that would come by our house every night, and I'd hear the whistle blow. That is the sweetest memory I have.

And I always keep cards people send me. I have a whole wall covered with them.

She was the most beautiful thing you ever saw. She was radiant. And she was wearing this necklace... When you see the necklace in the painting, it all makes sense. He loved her. Even if she lived to one hundred and five without ever getting an answer.

There's a lot in my closet. I've been collecting things since I was five. I'm definitely a pack rat. I'm not a hoarder, but I'm definitely a pack rat. I will keep anything if I have a memory in it or a good moment.

True love rules especially through memory.

People always ask me if I believe diamonds are a girl's best friend. Frankly, I don't.

I wrote myself a check for ten million dollars for acting services rendered and dated it Thanksgiving 1995. I put it in my wallet and it deteriorated. And then, just before Thanksgiving 1995, I found out I was going to make ten million dollars for Dumb & Dumber. I put that check in the casket with my father because it was our dream together.

The nostalgia I have been cherishing all these years is a hypertrophied sense of lost childhood, not sorrow for lost banknotes.

Philly will always have a special place in my heart, and I will cherish the great memories with the city and my teammates there.

When I was older and I first started working, I was obsessed with buying my first Chanel jacket. I saved up my hard-earned money, went to Barneys, and bought a little black Chanel jacket. It saw many, many job interviews and many, many events. I'm not fitting into it lately, but I still have it.

It was for the sake of what had been, rather than what was.

Take my handkerchief, Scarlett. Never, at any crisis of your life, have I known you to have a handkerchief.

Everything rational and sensible abandons me when I try to throw out photographs. Time and time again, I hold one over a wastebasket, and then find it impossible to release my fingers and let the picture drop and disappear.

Construed as turf, home just seems a provisional claim, a designation you make upon a place, not one it makes on you. A certain set of buildings, a glimpsed, smudged window-view across a schoolyard, a musty aroma sniffed behind a garage when you were a child, all of which come crowding in upon your latter-day senses -- those are pungent things and vivid, even consoling. But to me they are also inert and nostalgic and unlikely to connect you to the real, to that essence art can sometimes achieve, which is permanence.

When you listen to old-school music, you can smell your mother's food in the kitchen. You can feel where you was when you first heard that song. That's what's beautiful about music. It's for everyone, but we all have individual memories that make us love it.