memory lane
nounUS, UK /ˈmɛm(ə)ɹi ˌleɪn/
1
Idiomatic An imaginary path along which one can take a nostalgic or sentimental journey through one's memories of the past.
- The speaker took us on a trip down memory lane with his recollections of village life fifty years ago.
- This is Memory Lane—lonely and drear to some, pleasant and gay to others. ... It was New Year's day in the old town, the most hallowed of holidays on Memory Lane; the day when the wharf was deserted, for everyone, great and small, walked over the Lane, many even to the very end.1894 December, B[urton] M. Balch, “Memory Lane. A New Year’s Study.”, in Burton M. Balch, editor, Hamilton Literary Monthly, volume 29, number 3, Clinton, N.Y.: Published by the students, Hamilton College, →OCLC, page 101,102:
4 more examples
- “How about a stroll down Memory Lane. Remember this?” He thrust a picture at me.1954 May, Peter De Vries, chapter 3, in The Tunnel of Love, Boston, Mass.: Little, Brown and Company, published July 1954, →OCLC, page 25:
- My “memory lane” is splotched with recollections that have not dimmed or faded in the last seventy-five years. They stand out clear and sharp, but they are splotches just the same. They have no beginning, nor do they trail off to an ending. They are just there like ink splotches on a white wall.1987, Eva Antonia Wilbur-Cruce, “My Earliest Recollections”, in A Beautiful, Cruel Country, Tucson, Ariz.: University of Arizona Press, →ISBN, page 42:
- Sigrid took a bittersweet trip down memory lane when Anne opened the carton of ornaments and lifted out a crumpled tinsel star. All at once she was three years old again and her father was holding her up in his strong arms to place that same star on the very top of their Christmas tree.1989, Margaret Maron, Corpus Christmas (A Crime Club Book), Warner Books edition, New York, N.Y.: Mysterious Press, published 2001, →ISBN, page 255:
- Molly sleeps this morning as her parents, per their promise, travel down memory lane from their just-delivered leather sofa. Tim and I have memory-goaders galore, including our album of wedding photos, two separate videotapes of the marriage ceremony, and some random 35-millimeter slides one or the other of us somehow managed to squeeze off that strange and signal day exactly one year and four days ago.1989, Larry L. Meyer, “August 16: An Irish Wedding Revisited”, in My Summer with Molly: The Journal of a Second Generation Father, Huntington Beach, Calif.: Calafia Press, →ISBN, page 146: