Quotes About Home

Alessa—sensibly masked—comes downstairs and over to the counter. She takes one look at me and says, "What the hell did you do to yourself?" "He says he got into a fight with a pig," says Candy. "It looks like the pig won." "It was a draw," I say. "But next time I'm coming home with pork chops.

I take a long drag on the Malediction like maybe it'll start a tornado and carry me back home like Dorothy.

would like to thank his colleagues, particularly Andrin and Helen, for their generous encouragement in his book-writing. Finally, he is most grateful to Christina, who, against all his instincts, got him to buy a house on a hill in the middle of nowhere. It has turned out to be a place in the middle of somewhere very special indeed, and a perfect place to write. And to his six-year-old daughter Zoe, who has taught him more than

That's what I like about traveling—you can sit down, maybe talk to someone interesting, see something beautiful, read a good book, and that's enough to qualify as a good day. You do that at home and everyone thinks you're a bum.

Dear little house that I have lived in, there is happiness you have seen, even before I was born. In you is my life, and all the people I have loved are a part of you, so to go out of you, and leave you, is to leave myself.

On average, the greener a girl's view from home, the better she concentrates, the less she acts impulsively, and the longer she can delay gratification.

Mount Olympus, the highest mountain in Greece and the mythological home of the gods.

Home, I whispered. is where the river flows humming through the willows. Home is milkweed in your hair, with hemlock moss your pillows. Home, if you could only know, is anyplace I see you --- it's in your heart and from the start I've known my home would be you. FROM BOOK _ZAZOO_ , p.21, Chapter 3

Home is where they don't want to kill you," Jack said.

The pages continue to turn, and every day I'm a little older, hopefully a little wiser and a lot more grateful. Do I have regrets? I have a few - but not as many as you might think. If it hadn't been for the darkness, I never would have known the light. In life we all take different paths, some more difficult than others, but in the end, all that matters is whether or not they lead us home.

after visiting the Santa Anita Assembly Center, quoted a small girl she had overheard talking to her mother: "I am tired of Japan, Mother. Let's go back to America.

hilltop home on Durand Drive behind Hollywood

At midnight I looked about to discover that I was the oldest living human being in the world. A twinge of shame. I should be at home, I thought, in my slippers and my bronchitic scarf.

There should be just one safe place in the world

but where's the checkered flag we all expected, waving in the distance, telling you you're home again, home?

You just wanted to play in your own backyard, but you don't know where your own yard is, exactly.

I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't the kingdom then I don't know what is.

You asked me once, What are we made of? Well, these are the things we're made of. One house, two house. The road goes away from here.

Yes, bottle up your negative emotions in a neurotically unhealthy way. For my sake. Just off and on until spring. Your springtime emotions I like a lot." I took a long swig of beer. "I don't know, Timothy. I have to tell you, this is a bolt out of the blue. Your proposition is not something I ever dreamed I'd be faced with when we began sharing hearth and home and Vaseline jar. I'm going to have to give this one a lot of thought.

May your home be so holy with laughter that wounded birds lean against your door to listen and heal. – Richard Van Camp's Twitter and Facebook Posts, July 22, 2017 (Ma traduction en français : Que votre maison soit si bénie par le rire que les oiseaux blessés s'appuient contre votre porte pour écouter et guérir.)

that land's my home. That land's my deepest wish, my wildest dream, the only prayer and the only temple i'm ever gonna need.

I wondered how people could live with things set in place, fixed, their places determined by the power of the recollection they contained, the memories they held. It was what made a home, I believed; the things we keep, the sum of us.

Frisch weht der Wind Der Heimat zu Mein Irisch Kind, Wo weilest du?

We turn our eyes away from distance, we raise them in our home again, and there we see a prince whom his people loves, not in the mere sense of old-traditional allegiance to his family, no! of pure love for himself, for his ownest I. We love him because he is what he is, we love his pure virtue, his high sense of honour, his probity, his clemency. So from a full a heart I cry aloud in joy: - That is the man of Providence.