Long Lost Quotes

The spell started to brush across my skin, tasting me, telling me what it wanted....
Nothing compared to power flowing through you, over you, around you. It was a alluring, sensual as it wound through my hair, cuddled with my skin. It wanted me to swirl the power, to tickle it with light and sound, and it sang to me of spells long lost. ~ N.E. Conneely

I was riding my mountain bike in Colorado, and I met a dog who reminded me so much of my very first dog in the way she interacted with me, looked at me, and wagged her tail that I rode away convinced I'd just very possibly met the reincarnated version of my long lost friend. ~ Bruce Cameron

I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all. The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or past manhood and all the living and the dying and the heartbreak that went on a million years ago and the clouds as they pass overhead seem to testify (by their own lonesome familiarity) to this feeling. ~ Jack Kerouac

No sound, once made, is ever truly lost. In electric clouds, all are safely trapped, and with a touch, if we find them, we can recapture those echoes of sad, forgotten wars, long summers, and sweet autumns. ~ Ray Bradbury

When I look back on my childhood, my earliest memories seem like artifacts from a long-lost civilization: half-understood fragments behind museum glass. ~ Matthew Flaming

Every hurt buried deep
in the mind
has an uncanny ability
to surface and make
its presence felt
when I am feeling low,
hugging me
like a long lost friend ~ Vijaya Gowrisankar

To be honest, owls aren't the brightest of birds, amazing as they are; parrots and crows are much smarter. It's all in the eyes: those magnificent piercing optics are what make all owls look like they are deep in concentrated scrutiny and steeped in long-lost knowledge. ~ Matt Sewell

To many, I was myth incarnate, the embodiment of a most superb legend, a fairy tale. Some considered me a monster, a mutation. To my great misfortune, I was once mistaken for an angel. To my mother, I was everything. To my father, nothing at all. To my grandmother, I was a daily reminder of loves long lost. But I knew the truth - deep down, I always did.
I was just a girl. ~ Leslye Walton

Entering Malibu, I was overwhelmed by a feeling of nostalgia and long lost sadness, like seeing a home I had left a long time ago and had returned to. ~ Nick Mancuso

Her heart unfolded in her chest, took in all of him, and closed tightly, unwilling to let him go ~ Justine Dell

Perspective is the enemy of long-lost love. ~ Amy Dickinson

In a musically imperfect world, there is still perfection in the voice of Barbara Cook. For anyone eulogizing the historic scores of a long-lost era of Broadway greatness, not to worry. Somebody is still singing them with purity and passion. She is Barbara Cook, and she sings them for the angels to applaud. ~ Rex Reed

[For American consumer society], the country's reserves of ignorance constitute a natural resource as precious as the Mississippi River or the long-lost herds of buffalo. ~ Lewis H. Lapham

They were natural storytellers and beautiful singers; innately charming people who treated us like long-lost cousins. ~ Ransom Riggs

My fantasy was that I was the long-lost switched-at-birth child of wealthy eccentrics. One day, they would find me and take me away from the gypsy caravan that was my life, and give me hot meals, a decent dress, and a pony. ~ Roberta Pearce

In order to confer their lost Nationality upon exiled Jews , the British with the help of the League of Nations began to rehabilitate the old Hebrew country, Palestine, with its long lost children. The Jews had maintained their race, religion, culture and language; and all they wanted was their natural territory to complete their Nationality. The reconstruction of the Hebrew Nation on Palestine is just an affirmation of the fact that Country, Race, Religion, Culture and Language must exist unequivocally together to form the Nation idea. ~ M. S. Golwalkar

Encountering rhyme out of the blue is like finding a long-lost twin (fraternal), or a suitcase that closes with a particularly satisfying click. ~ Matthea Harvey

Like go for a walk, say a little prayer
Take a deep breath of mountain air
Put on my glove and play some catch
It's time that I make time for that
Wade the shore and cast a line
Look up a long lost friend of mine
Sit on the porch and give my girl a kiss
Start livin', that's the next thing on my list. ~ Toby Keith

Have you ever met someone and felt like you've known them forever? ~ Michelle Madow

Riches can all be lost, but that happiness in your own heart can only be veiled, and it will bring you happiness again, as long as you live. ~ Anne Frank

One can never call me a quitter
I take something right and see it
through till it's wrong
Auctioning myself off to the lowest bidder
Going once, going twice
Gone
Sold to the man for the price of disdain
Some are sold for a song
I don't rate a refrain
I guess it was all going just a little too well
If I wasn't careful I'd be happy pretty soon
Heaven's no place for one who thrives on hell,
One who prefers the bit to the silver spoon.
Then just when I'd almost resigned myself to winning
When it seemed my bright future would never dim
When my luck looked as though it was only beginning
I met him.
Sullen and scornful; a real Marlboro man
The type who pours out the beer and eats the can
A tall guy with a cultivated leer
One you can count on to diaprove or disappear
I knew right away that he was a find
Given this, he was the kindest man I'd ever met
Back came my sense of worthlessness
And my long lost pangs of regret
I was my old self again, lost and confused
Reunited with that old feeling
Of being misunderstood and misused.

Sold to the man for the price of disdain
All of this would be interesting
If it weren't so mundane ~ Carrie Fisher

From The Ghost Wars- on the concept of the Torah as ancient science fiction. "Take the story of the fall of the tower of Babel. Let's say this represents not an act of God, nor a metaphor for this planet's diverse linguistic heritage; but a catastrophic act of terrorism by the Divisionists to sever mankind from the neural net. The internet in this situation becomes mankind's attempt to build a physical replacement for a natural ability long lost. Think of it as a wooden leg or a pacemaker. ~ Cole J. Davis

Not long before my mother died, I found a long-lost portrait of Jane Franklin's granddaughter, Jane Flagg, aged nine - oil on canvas - in the basement of a public library not a dozen miles from my mother's house. ~ Jill Lepore

Searching for a mind long lost I found it shaping colors and history near the cliffs of your heart. ~ Aberjhani

The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or past manhood and all the living and the dying and the heartbreak that went on a million years ago and the clouds as they pass overhead seem to testify by their own lonesome familiarities to this feeling. Ecstasy, even , I felt, with flashes of sudden remembrance, and feeling sweaty and drowsy I felt like sleeping and dreaming in the grass. ~ Jack Kerouac

I love you. On intense days. On good days. On long, exhausting work days. On really strange days when I find out that I have a long-lost brother. And most of all, on days when you make me smile, which happens to be every day I'm with you. You are not just a big-picture girl for me, Brooke Parker. You're the only picture. ~ Julie James

By the time I make my way to the border of Mauritania, to the edge of the Sahara, I see no end to being lost. You can spend your entire life simply falling in that direction. It isn't a station you reach but just the general state of going down. Once you make it back, if you make it back, you will stand before your long-lost friends but in some essential way they will no longer know you. ~ Nick Flynn

A 'hello again' after the final goodbye is sometimes harder than just keeping the goodbye as it was. ~ Jessiqua Wittman

Overcoming the Cold War required courage from the people of Central and Eastern Europe and what was then the German Democratic Republic, but it also required the steadfastness of Western partner over many decades when many had long lost hope of integration of the two Germanys and Europe. ~ Angela Merkel

Give me that warm feeling,
That makes me believe again.
Give me that soft answer,
The kind you gave me way back when.
Give me some true kindness,
That brightens the sky again.
Give me the best that's in you,
And encouragement now and then.
Dust off those long-lost manners!
Bury ambition and guile!
Unfurl those lovely banners
Of virtue and laughter and style!
Give me that warm feeling,
Take off that impersonal glove.
Remember, remember we're dealing
With that fair and rare thing called love! ~ Alec Wilder

The world turned upside down,' Beauvoir continued. 'It was at once more beautiful and more frightening than you'd been led to believe. And suddenly you didn't know what to do. Who to trust. Where to turn. It's terrifying. Being lost is so much worse than being on the wrong road. That's why people stay on it for so long. ~ Louise Penny

After dark vapors have oppress'd our plains
For a long dreary season, comes a day
Born of the gentle South, and clears away
From the sick heavens all unseemly stains.
The anxious month, relieved of its pains,
Takes as a long-lost right the feel of May;
The eyelids with the passing coolness play
Like rose leaves with the drip of Summer rains.
The calmest thoughts came round us; as of leaves
Budding - fruit ripening in stillness - Autumn suns
Smiling at eve upon the quiet sheaves -
Sweet Sappho's cheek - a smiling infant's breath -
The gradual sand that through an hour-glass runs -
A woodland rivulet - a Poet's death. ~ John Keats

I tried not to think of Uncle Ray as being gone forever. I just liked to imagine him on one really long Lost Weekend. ~ Lisa Lutz

If you'll be my body guard, I can be your long lost pal. ~ Paul Simon

Sweet memory, wafted by the gentle gale,
Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail,
To view the fairy haunts of long-lost hours,
Blest with far greener shades, far fresher flowers. ~ Samuel Rogers

It takes me a long time to lose my temper, but once lost I could not find it with a dog. ~ Mark Twain

I've learned my lesson. For good this time. Seriously. If I come home and Kate is screwing some random guy in our bed? I won't freak out - I won't say a word.
I'll just pick her up, toss her over my shoulder, and carry her to the nearest DNA lab to make sure it's actually Kate, and not some evil long-lost twin hell-bent on wrecking our lives. ~ Emma Chase

Here's one night when I control the chaos. I participate with the doom I can't control. I'm dancing with the inevitable, and I survive ... My regular little dress rehearsal ... the day I finally meet Death, the two of us will be old, long-lost friends. Me and Death, separated at birth. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

Myrtle


How funny your name would be
if you could follow it back to where
the first person thought of saying it,
naming himself that, or maybe
some other persons thought of it
and named that person. It would
be like following a river to its source,
which would be impossible. Rivers have no source.
They just automatically appear at a place
where they get wider, and soon a real
river comes along, with fish and debris,
regal as you please, and someone
has already given it a name: St. Benno
(saints are popular for this purpose) or, or
some other name, the name of his
long-lost girlfriend, who comes
at long last to impersonate that river,
on a stage, her voice clanking
like its bed, her clothing of sand
and pasted paper, a piece of real technology,
while all along she is thinking, I can
do what I want to do. But I want to stay here. ~ John Ashbery

If as the friends of colonization hope, the present and coming generations of our countrymen shall by any means, succeed in freeing our land from the dangerous presence of slavery; and, at the same time, in restoring a captive people to their long-lost father-land, with bright prospects for the future; and this too, so gradually, that neither races nor individuals shall have suffered by the change, it will indeed be a glorious consummation. ~ Abraham Lincoln

No man can have a reasonable opinion of women until he has long lost interest in hair-restorers. ~ Austin O'Malley

Where would we be in this soulless universe if there weren't a few people who hold on to memories, their hearts yearning for long-lost feelings? ~ Nicolas Barreau

In Plato's Symposium, Aristophanes accounts for this feeling of familiarity by claiming that the loved one was our long-lost 'other half to whose body our own had originally been joined. In the beginning, all human beings were hermaphrodites with double backs and flanks, four hands and four legs and two faces turned in opposite directions on the same head. These hermaphrodites were so powerful and their pride so overweening that Zeus was forced to cut them in two, into a male and female half – and from that day, every man and woman has yearned nostalgically but confusedly to rejoin the part from which he or she was severed. ~ Alain De Botton

When you're a young writer and you look at people praising a big hefty anthology that has uncovered a long lost genre, it can be disorienting to look inside it and think, "But what it's uncovered still isn't me. What does this mean? Do I not belong in this genre, or is there more of the genre yet to find?" ~ John D'Agata

A minute or so passed by--not long, but long enough to make me wonder whether Oliver was setting up mood lighting or hiding dead bodies. Or if someone was up there waiting to stab me again. Or if someone was up there waiting to hand me a crown and tell me I was the long-lost princess of Genovia. Or if I'd tumble into a pit of lava, only to get saved at the last second by a flying carpet. ~ Lindsay Ribar

We are above all things loved--that is the good news of the gospel--and loved not just the way we turn up on Sundays in our best clothes and on our best behavior and with our best feet forward, but loved as we alone know ourselves to be, the weakest and shabbiest of what we are along with the strongest and gladdest. To come together as people who believe that just maybe this gospel is actually true should be to come together like people who have just won the Irish Sweepstakes. It should have us throwing our arms around each other like people who have just discovered that every single man and woman in those pews is not just another familiar or unfamiliar face but is our long-lost brother and our long-lost sister because despite the fact that we have all walked in different gardens and knelt at different graves, we have all, humanly speaking, come from the same place and are heading out into the same blessed mystery that awaits us all. This is the joy that is so apt to be missing, and missing not just from church but from our own lives--the joy of not just managing to believe at least part of the time that it is true that life is holy, but of actually running into that holiness head-on. ~ Frederick Buechner

These stories at times to be stories of a long-lost world when the city of New York was still filled with a river light, when you heard Benny Goodman quartets from a radio in the corner stationary store, when almost everybody wore a hat. Here is the last of that generation of chain smokers who woke to the world in the morning with their coughing, who used to get stoned at cocktail parties and perform obsolete dance steps like 'the Cleveland Chicken,' sail for Europe on ships, who were nostalgic for love and happiness, and whose gods were as ancient as yours and mine, whoever you are. ~ John Cheever

I had successfully attended an event by myself. I had done something that was important to me, regardless of the fact that no one else wanted to go, and I had reconnected with my long lost love of fashion. I was not shunned. I did not die or spontaneously burst into flames. In fact, I was just fine. ~ Geva Salerno

And things will mellow. And all this love will turn to friendship tinged forever. After that, there will be only accidental meetings, a stray email, a long-lost text. ~ Janice Pariat

Who should turn up but that long-lost schmuck of a Billy, and what did Charis do but rent him the other half of her duplex? It's enough to make you tear your hair out by its tiny grey roots, ~ Margaret Atwood

I see a long lost home in his eyes. He sees a nice hotel in mine. ~ Juliana Hatfield

Why love the boy in a March field with his kite braving the sky? Because our fingers burn with the hot string singeing our hands. Why love some girl viewed from a train bent to a country well? The tongue remembers iron water cool on some long lost noon. Why weep at strangers dead by the road? They resemble friends unseen in forty years. Why laugh when clowns are hot by pies? We taste custard we taste life. Why love the woman who is your wife? Her nose breathes the air of a world that I know; therefore I love that nose. Her ears hear music I might sing half the night through; therefore I love her ears. Her eyes delight in seasons of the land; and so I love those eyes. Her tongue knows quince, peach, chokeberry, mint and lime; I love to hear it speaking. Because her flesh knows heat, cold, affliction, I know fire, snow, and pain. Shared and once again shared experience. Billions of prickling textures. Cut one sense away, cut part of life away. Cut two senses; life halves itself on the instant. We love what we know, we love what we are. Common cause, common cause, common cause of mouth, eye, ear, tongue, hand, nose, flesh, heart, and soul. ~ Ray Bradbury

She loved this man. This wonderful, respectiful, willful man. And she couldn't even tell him. ~ Justine Dell

Downstairs, I could hear the return of a long-lost sound: Amy making breakfast. Banging wooden cupboards (rump-thump!), rattling containers of tin and glass (ding-ring!), shuffling and sorting a collection of metal pots and iron pans (ruzz-shuzz!). A culinary orchestra tuning up, clattering vigorously toward the finale, a cake pan drumrolling along the floor, hitting the wall with a cymballic crash. ~ Gillian Flynn

There are cases that I just can't forget.....What it is. I don't know. I think it's the ones where something small changes everything. Where the tiniest act , the smallest space of time, the most inconsequential of decisions, changes a life. A split second separates the long-lost friends who either see or miss each other at an airport. And from that , a relationship does or does not develop, perhaps a lifetime partnership,, perhaps even children. Human beings who might or might not have existed. Whole lives built out of the most fragile of happenstance.
And maybe that's why our lives are beautiful; why they're tragic. One perfect child can be born of an accidental encounter, and another lost to a split-second lapse in attention. If a motorist leans over to change a radio station at the same moment that it first occurs to a four year old that he can let go of his mother's hand as easily as hang onto it, and that if he lets go he will be across the road first, before his mother, and that she will certainly laugh and say, "How fast you are, Johnny!" If the child does this and the motorist does that , and if the world then changes forever and unbearably for everyone involved, then is that not life in its simplest form?
That so little matters so much, and so much matters so little. ~ Laura McBride

Soft sun shone down on a misty cathedral at the opposite end of a football-field length courtyard. The cathedral had a long pointed tower with beautiful rose and ivory stained glass windows. Pink-petal flowers and deep green ivy climbed the stones from the ground to it's roof. A large fountain stood in the middle of the courtyard with water falling from several lion's heads. Between the misty air and rolling slope of the earth, the grounds reminded me of a long lost fairy tale. ~ Priya Ardis

I will not return to a universe
of objects that do not know each other, as if islands were not the long lost children of one great continent ~ Lisel Mueller

In the spring of 1988, I returned to New Orleans, and as soon as I smelled the air, I knew I was home.
It was rich, almost sweet, like the scent of jasmine and roses around our old courtyard.
I walked the streets, savoring that long lost perfume. ~ Anne Rice

Velutha looked down at Ambassador Insect in his arms He put her down. Shaking too.
"And look at you!" he said, looking at her ridiculous frothy frock "So beautiful! Getting married?"
Rahel lunged at his armpits and tickled him mercilessly. Ickilee ickilee ickilee!
"I saw you yesterday," she said.
"Where?" Velutha made his voice high and surprised.
"Liar" Rahel said. "Liar and pretender. I did see you. You were a Communist and had a shirt and a flag. And you ignored me."
"Aiyyo kashtam," Velutha said. "Would I do that? You tell me, would Velutha ever do that? It must've been my Long-lost Twin brother."
"Which Long-lost Twin brother?"
"Urumban, silly... The one who lives in Kochi."
"Who Urumban?" Then she saw the twinkle. "Liar! You haven't got a Twin brother! It wasn't Urumban! It was you!"
Velutha laughed. He had a lovely laugh that he really meant
"Wasn't me," he said. "I was sick in bed."
"See, you're smiling!" Rahel said. "That means it was you
Smiling means 'It was you.'"
"That's only in English' Velutha said. "In Malayalam my
teacher always said that 'Smiling means it wasn't me.'"
It took Rahel a moment to sort that one out. She lunged at him once again. Ickilee ickilee ickilee! (169( ~ Arundhati Roy

Maybe I was being delusional about everything. For some reason I thought I'd just fall right into their lives like the long lost sister they'd always wanted. They ~ Nika Michelle

His presence was stirring heat in all the wrong places and for all the wrong reasons. ~ Justine Dell

The truth was that I didn't know how I felt about my long-lost baby sister being in Ashland, much less the fact that she was a cop. A good one, at that. Somebody who actually tried to help people, who wanted to make a difference in a city as dirty and corrupt as Ashland - while I'd spent my entire adult life killing people for money. The idea that we shared the same DNA boggled the mind. Guess there was something to that nurture stuff after all. ~ Jennifer Estep

Across the distance, the Acropolis museum cradled within its protective walls its legendary treasures, lulling them to a peaceful sleep under the eerie light from the heavens. Yet, through the large window, the five Caryatids stood alert on their strong platform. The ageless maidens with the long braided hair down their backs remained awake even at this hour gazing across to the Acropolis, full of nostalgia for their sacred home. Inside their marble chests, they nurtured as always, precious hope for the return of their long lost sister. ~ Effrosyni Moschoudi

The depths of winter longing are ice within my heart
The shards of broken covenants lie sharp against my soul
The wraiths of long-lost ecstasy still keep us two apart
The amen winds of bitterness sill keen from turn to pole.
The scares are twisted tendons, the stumps of struck-off limbs,
The aching pit of hunger and throb of unset bone,
My sanded burning eyeballs, as might within them dims,
Add nothin to the torment of lying here alone ...
The shimmering flames of fever trace out your blessed face
My broken eardrums echo yet your voice inside my head
I do not fear the darkness that comes to me apace
I only dread the loss of you thy comes when I am dead. ~ Robert A. Heinlein

CONGS CATASTROPHE
In their primal gladiatorial tourney N. Baddesley jousting on their own bailiwick encountered the full and furious blast of Steeple Sinderby's New Look Lads spearheaded by Sid Swift, long-lost Shooting Star idol of Brum fans a handful of time ago. The Ringers clocked up eleven strikes and only the inexorable march of time muffled a full peal of twelve. ~ J.L. Carr

The Afghan "negotiation phase" immediately precedes the traditional Afghan "surrender phase." This entails the following: The defeated party surrenders and then comes out shooting. This is repeated several times. Finally, the vanquished party runs out of ammunition and is forced to surrender ' but seriously this time ' at which point the victors kill the foreigners and hug their fellow Afghans like long-lost brothers. ~ Ann Coulter

a long lost friend gone in the wind, gone for all eternity, a long lost friend ~ Chris Clark

Higher Love:

Fear, manipulation, dependency...
And decimation of any part of who you are
Is not based on a foundation of love
Believe in a higher love
One that sleeps and wakes on a bed of respect
One that sings through a harmony of hope
A higher love
Born from recalling long-lost sweethearts of your soul
Ancient hearts that feel like yours
And love like yours ~ Christine Evangelou

Time and progress are two long-lost relatives who send an occasional letter. ~ Aline Ohanesian

Your young, sitting back thinking about your future, you feel heavily in your heart your desire to create your dream; no matter the tasks set before you. You hold that feeling; close to you, and you age. Your told to grow up, get a job and become successful in ways that will make someone else proud, whilst ignoring the ache inside yourself. Truth is, we're all raised to conform; damn it our parents were raised to conform, but does that mean you have to, too? No, than unravel that long lost dream inside yourself and start to create a life from it, you'll walk alone for a while, you will break down every comfort zone you've ever known; slowly transforming into a being without one, and you know what..? even if it's going to be hard, possibly some of the greatest hurdles of your time; one thing will feel certain- you'll never have felt so empowered in all your life. ~ Nikki Rowe

Out my left, I saw baboon bum, out my right, my long-lost uncle Amos. Naturally, I decided to focus on the right. ~ Rick Riordan

Your people back in Pennsylvania - what are they like?" Caleb finished his work and turned to face Lily, his arms folded. Because the barn was shadowy and he was wearing that blasted campaign hat of his she could barely see his face. "Decent, hardworking, ordinary enough." "Rich?" Lily inquired. "Yes, you could say that." Lily sighed. Marrying the major might eliminate her current dilemma, but once the back-east Hallidays got a good look at her the snobbery would begin all over again. Caleb's family would wonder what had possessed their long-lost son to choose an orphan with a questionable reputation for his wife. He curved a finger under her chin and lifted it. "They'd take to you immediately, sodbuster," he said. "It's me they've got no use for." "And if they didn't?" "They would. Now let's get back to the fort - that is, unless you want to stop at the church and get married first." Lily thought for a moment, then shook her head. Caleb ~ Linda Lael Miller

Perhaps Cadoett was just a splendid tomb, and the ocean was a tender songbird humming a noble tale. ~ Ella Rose Carlos

Sassy want a mousey??!! -Syd The Long Lost (Hayle Coven #5) ~ Patti Larsen

She forced herself to stroll casually and appraise her plants. The wisteria was shedding its final leaves, the jasmine had long lost its flowers, but the autumn had been mild and the pink roses were still in bloom. Eliza went closer, took a half-opened bud between her fingers and smiled at the perfect raindrop caught within its inner petals.
The thought was sudden and complete. She must make a bouquet, a welcome-home gift for Rose. Her cousin was fond of flowers, but more than that, Eliza would select plants that were a symbol of their bond. There must be ivy for friendship, pink rose for happiness, and some of the exotic oak-leaved geranium for memories... ~ Kate Morton

Love is not something that happens just once and lasts uniformly throughout your lifetime. No, that kinda love can only exist in fictional stories.

But if you fall in and out of love with the same person, for countless number of times, each time rediscovering those feelings that you thought you had long lost in past and somehow it still feels as fresh as the morning dew...
That's the real deal, that's how it happens in real life. ~ Seekerohan

The designer of today re-establishes the long-lost contact between art and the public, between living people and art as a living thing. ~ Bruno Munari

One day a man came to watch him work on a painting he was doing of Jesus and his disciples. The man sat there all day, and Leonardo only made one stroke the whole time. 'You stood there all day and only made one stroke,' the man said. Leonardo just looked at him. 'Yeah, but it was the right stroke,' he said." Dan sat quietly for a second. I was not sure if he was angry or if he didn't see the relevance of the analogy. Then, all of a sudden, he burst out laughing. "That's pretty good, Nerburn," he said. He reached over and pushed me playfully. "What was that guy's name?" "Leonardo da Vinci." "I've got to remember that. Leonardo Duvishhi. You sure he wasn't an Indian?" "Might have been Wapashaw's long-lost uncle," I said. Dan laughed heartily. "This is a good day, Nerburn. I'm glad you came to visit me." The hawk cut great arcs against the towering sky. The eastern horizon was filling with pinks and lavenders. "So am I, Dan," I said. "It's been too long. ~ Kent Nerburn

The past may or may not be a foreign country. It may morph or lie still, but its capital is always Regret, and what flushes through it is the grand canal of unfledged desires that feed into an archipelago of tiny might-have-beens that never really happened but aren't unreal for not happening and might still happen though we fear they never will. And I thought of Ole Brit holding back so much, as we all do when we look back to see that the roads we've left behind or not taken have all but vanished. Regret is how we hope to back into our real lives once we find the will, the blind drive and courage, to trade in the life we're given for the life that bears our name and ours only. Regret is how we look forward to things we've long lost yet never really had. Regret is hope without conviction, I said. We're torn between regret, which is the price to pay for things not done, and remorse, which is the cost for having done them. Between one and the other, time plays all its cozy little tricks. ~ Andre Aciman

I looked at her; I saw a slipshod permanet crumpling her hair into a shapeless mass of curls; I saw a brown overcoat, pitifully threadbare and a bit too shot; I saw a face both unobtrusively attractive and attractively unobtrusive; I sensed in this young woman tranquillity, simplicity and modesty, and I felt that these were qualities I needed; moreover, it seemed to me that we were very much akin: all I had to do was to go up and start talking to her and she would smile as if a long-lost brother had suddenly appeared before her. ~ Milan Kundera

I remembered that once, as a child, I was filled with wonder, that I had marveled at tri-folded science projects, encyclopedias, and road atlases. I left much of that wonder somewhere back in Baltimore. Now I had the privilege of welcoming it back like a long-lost friend, though our reunion was laced with grief; I mourned over all the years that were lost. The mourning continues. Even today, from time to time, I find myself on beaches watching six-year-olds learn to surf, or at colleges listening to sophomores slip from English to Italian, or at cafés seeing young poets flip though "The Waste Land," or listening to the radio where economists explain economic things that I could've explored in my lost years, mourning, hoping that I and all my wonder, my long-lost friend, have not yet run out of time, though I know that we all run out of time, and some of us run out of it faster. ~ Ta-Nehisi Coates

Why hadn't the Woman in Black called for Raphael? Mathilde's idea that she'd stopped looking for him seemed out of keeping with most ghost
stories; ghosts didn't change their behavior, did they?
Whatever the reason, Caitlyn was glad of it. Raphael was hers, and she didn't want to share him. She hated the idea of a long-lost lover roaming
the halls of the castle, looking for him. It meant there was someone else in his life.
She was, she realized, jealous.
That's stupid! How can I be jealous of a ghost, over a guy who might not even exist?
And yet, there was no other word for what she felt. Since the moment she'd seen Raphael riding in the valley, her heart had claimed him as her
Knight of Cups ~ Lisa Cach

And who were we, anyway, to imagine we knew what these gomers felt, to be so hot on saving them? Wasn't it ridiculous for us to imagine that they felt as we did? As ridiculous as it would be for us to try to imagine what a child felt? We were putting into these gomers our fear of death, but who knew if they feared death? Perhaps they welcomed death like a dear long-lost cousin, grown old but still known, coming to visit, relieving the loneliness, the failing of the senses, the fury of the half-blind looking into the mirror and not recognizing who is looking back, a dear friend, a dear reliever, a healer who would be with them for an eternity, the same eternity as the one long ago, before birth. Wouldn't that be a death, for them? ~ Samuel Shem

The passage of the mythological hero may be over ground, incidentally; fundamentally it is inward
into depths where obscure resistances are overcome, and long lost, forgotten powers are revivified, to be made available for the transfiguration of the world. ~ Joseph Campbell

It's absurd and quite tragic the way people have managed to pit science against faith. They aren't in conflict at all - they're long lost dance partners. I don't divide the world up into Christians and other people - we are all human beings, brothers and sisters, and we embrace truth wherever we find it, whether that's in a lab, a field or a cathedral. Because sometimes you need a scientist and sometimes you need a poet. ~ Rob Bell

Join us next time for Days of the Undead when Rachel learns her long lost brother is really a crown prince from outer space. ~ Kim Harrison

I'm sorry I looked. Or saw, I guess. I didn't go digging through your book. The pages fell out."
"Yeah. I kinda figured that might have been what happened." He scuffed one heel against the cement. "The book fell out of my bag again...and,well..."
And,well, there he was,forgiven.
"Zippers," I said. "One of mankind's better inventions. Your bag has one; I've seen it."
"You see much, Grasshopper."
I blinked at him.
"C'mon. Kung Fu?" He let go of his knees and sliced both hands through the air in a choppy spiral. "Shaolin monk fighting against injustice while searching for his long-lost brother in the Old West?"
I shook my head. "Nope.Sorry.""
"Sad. I bet you wouldn't recognize 'Live long and prosper,' either."
"Nope."
"How did I know? My dad got me into seventies TV.It's awfully brilliant. Or brilliantly awful, maybe." He had relaxed and was looking monumentally pleased with seventies television or himself or something.
You're awfully beautiful, Alex Bainbridge.
I managed to keep that one to myself,but... "You're really good." That one got away from me. "Your drawing, I mean. ~ Melissa Jensen

Don't you know me, Sophia?" came his anguished whisper. He shocked her by sinking to the floor and clutching handfuls of her skirts, his dark head buried against her knees.
She was dumbstruck as she stared at the hands tangled in her skirts. A harsh sob lodged in her throat as she touched the back of his left hand. There was a small, star-shaped scar in the center. It was the same scar that John had gotten in childhood, when he had carelessly brushed it against a fireplace iron still hot from the coals. Tears continued to slip down her cheeks, and she covered the mark with her own hand.
His head lifted, and he stared at her with eyes that she now recognized were exactly like her own. "Please," he whispered.
"It's all right," she said unsteadily. "I believe you, John. I do know you. I should have seen it at once, but you are much changed."
He responded with a sorrowful growl, struggling to contain his feelings. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Sometimes I wonder if it's because you spent so long lost that you must insist on bringing every lost thing home. ~ Seanan McGuire

... she was afraid of how he made her feel, because he made her feel way too much ~ Justine Dell

Nothing is lost as long as courage remains ~ Napoleon Bonaparte

Suppose that 'Unsolved Mysteries' called you with news of a long-lost identical twin. Would that suddenly make you less of a person, less of an individual? It is hard to see how. So, why would a clone be different? Your clone would be raised in a different era by different people - like the lost identical twin, only younger than you. ~ Nathan Myhrvold

What's bothering me is you always seem ready to snap my head off my shoulders and I'm not comfortable with that. ~ Justine Dell

The only thing secretive about secret societies is the fear that the arrogant inside these groups have of sharing the little they know, because they often don't even understand their own books and struggle with little. Their real fear is that someone may come along, understand everything better and faster than they do and before they can, and then, by default, lead them to exclusion by ignorance. On the other hand, their fear blinds them from knowing more and identifying those who can take them to a higher level, the same individuals that they clame to be waiting for and that only appear every couple of hundred years or thousand. This paradox is what leads their groups to extinction by self-imposed destructive behavior or to practices that are in complete contradiction towards what their founder or founders intended. As a matter of fact, the more this reality manifests before our eyes, the easier it is to find quotes in books written by founders of such groups in complete contradiction with what you hear everyone inside these groups speaking. What I'm really saying here is that Freemasonry, Rosicrucianism, Scientology, and many other groups out there, have long lost their entitlement to ownership of their own name, and as much as Christianity is today more in tune to an evil God than a benevolent one. Their real intention, even if manifested mostly at a subconscious level, is to keep away anyone that contradicts what they want to see, rather than what they should be seeing. I ~ Robin Sacredfire

Something like panic struck at Hurlow. Moffat's calm confession of fear withdrew the prop upon which he had leaned. Down there, among the motionless shadows, lurked invisible things, things that were nameless, shapeless and malignant; things which could see without being seen. One of the long lost terrors of childhood returned to him, and like a child he put his hand into Moffat's. ~ A.M. Burrage

I'm Magnus." He smiled, showing blinding white teeth.
"Magnus Bane."
"Are we long-lost friends, by any chance?" Simon said.
"Just wondering."
"No, we never got along all that well," said Magnus.
"Long-lost acquaintances? Compadres? My cat liked you. ~ Cassandra Clare

Weddings matter. Not just because they mark a significant turning point in a couple's lives, which they do. Weddings also serve as rare reunions for extended families and long-lost friends. They are a continuation of sacred rights and centuries-old traditions. And, most important, they are opportunities for joy. We don't have enough of those in this harried, workaholic society-whole days set aside just to eat and drink and dance and be together. This is the real gift if the wedding, and it's given both to the couple and to everyone lucky enough to be present at their union. ~ Ellen McCarthy

We were putting into these gomers our fear of death, but who knew if they feared death? Perhaps they welcomed death like a dear long-lost cousin, grown old but still known, coming to visit, relieving the loneliness, the failing of the senses, the fury of the half-blind looking into the mirror and not recognizing who is looking back, a dear friend, a dear reliever, a healer who would be with them for an eternity, the same eternity as the long ago, before birth. ~ Samuel Shem

Listening to them make music together was like hearing long-lost lovers find one another. ~ Emigh Cannaday

The prison was a shiver running up the spine of the shadowed background. The shiver running up Isabel's spine was only a piece of the haunted, crawling darkness before her. This prison, this disturbed place of long-lost hope, was the place she'd been looking for.
-Isabel, by E. L. Schoeman ~ E.L. Schoeman