Quotes About Home

And on that night, when all he's ever known in the past couple of years started to break apart, he did not try so desperately to keep her muse. He didn't need to. He also did not soak up in bottles of rum. Instead, he went home. He went home and painted. Because before any of this has ever happened, he was a painter.

My father told me that if a man is the head of the house, the woman is its heart. And a man without a heart is no more than a corpse.

Is it true that the English government is calling on women to do work abandoned by men? Yes, it is true. Is not a woman's place the home? No, not when men need her services outside the home. Will she never be told again that her place is the home? Oh, yes, indeed. When? As soon as men want their jobs back again.

The day should be as it was sure to be-- When this was home no more to him--when he Could go there only when his brother's wife Should ask him--to a room not his--his life Would shrink and lose its meaning. How unjust, I thought. Why do they feel it must Go to that idle, insolent eldest son? Well, in the end it went to neither one.

Oh, to come home to your country After long years away, To see the tall shining towers Rise over the rim of the bay, To feel the west wind steadily blowing And the sunshine golden and hot, To speak to each man as an equal, Whether he is or not.

There was nothing to replace an old friend who knew everything, who'd spent enough time in the childhood home to know the atmosphere and how emotions and silences transpired—to know how the other had really grown up.

People's lives, in Jubilee as elsewhere, were dull, simple, amazing, and unfathomable – deep caves paved with kitchen linoleum.

We go where we live—there is nowhere else.

with the same old grief as mine is it mine am I home oh how much life not my own have I buttered and eaten

This perhaps is what is meant by hiraeth: a lifelong yearning for what is gona and out of reach.

Never be the only one, except, possibly, in your own home.

I lived with my mom in a really small apartment. My bedroom was like in the living room. That's why I still love to sleep on couches now.

The house looked a tiny bit unfamiliar, as houses always do when their owners have ben away.

Welkom thuis, Alice, liefje. - Myra

It was a vicious circle, though. The more gratification we found in our own geniuses, the more isolated we grew. Our home was like an artists' colony. We ate together, but otherwise were absorbed in our separate pursuits. And in this isolation, our creativity took on an aspect of compulsion.

On our second date, she kissed me in a bar. I invited her home. We just caught the F train, which seemed like a good omen.

Leaving home but going back home: once you crossed the ocean you were always on the wrong side. That was the lot of the immigrant, belonging everywhere but nowhere. Displaced, and unplaced.

Some men," she would add in ominous seriousness, "are nice as pie in public but within their own homes they are mean and miserly to those who have to live with them all the time. No one, perhaps, knows this except those who are captive within their houses.

Individuality, therefore, harbours its own enemy at home.'2

First radio, then television, have assaulted and overturned the privacy of the home, the real American privacy, which permitted the development of a higher and more independent life within democratic society.

Sometime years before, I had dragged an old bean bag chair to that place. I watched Zach sink onto it, and then he pulled me down to lean against him. I felt his arms go around me, holding me tight. I was safe. I was warm. I was home.

They promised me that this would be my home. That girls like you would always be my sisters. But they weren't my sisters, were they?" Catherine asked, but then the lunacy broke, a quick and fleeting crack, and through it I saw anger and bitterness and rage.

No! I need to go home," I say, but then the realization comes: My mother was my home. My mother is dead.

It'd be fun, you know. Just once. To wake up Christmas morning with snow on the ground and stockings full of presents that no one had to steal and a house that's really home." She reclaimed the teapot and slowly slipped back into the con. "That would be nice. Maybe, someday, we'll steal that." On