Quotes About Home

And the home had been happy with him, too, evidently, and was missing him, and wanted him back, and was telling him so, through his nose, sorrowfully, reproachfully, but with no bitterness or anger; only with plaintive reminder that it was there, and wanted him.

But it was good to think he had this to come back to; this place which was all his own, these things which were so glad to see him again and could always be counted upon for the same simple welcome.

VERY careless and forgetful person has left his door-scraper lying about in the middle of the Wild Wood, JUST where it's SURE to trip EVERYBODY up. Very thoughtless of him, I call it. When I get home I shall go and complain about it to—to somebody or other, see if I don't!

People say they want to die in their own home. But me, I was ready for the hospital. The sterilized sheets, the machines, the whole bit. It just seemed easier there. Easier to cast myself off, I mean.

He said that if culture is a house, then language was the key to the front door; to all the rooms inside. Without it, he said, you ended up wayward, without a proper home or a legitimate identity.

If culture was a house, then language was the key to the front door, [and] to all rooms inside.

In Kabul, hot running water had been like fathers, a rare commodity.

She understood then what Nana meant, that a harami was an unwanted thing; that she, Mariam, was an illegitimate person who would never have legitimate claim to the things other people had, things such as love, family, home, acceptance.

Entering my childhood home is a little disorienting, like reading the end of a novel that I'd started, then abandoned, long ago.

She wished she could visit Mariam's grave, to sit with her awhile, leave a flower or two. But Laila sees now that it doesn't matter. Mariam is never very far. She is here, in these walls they've repainted, in the trees they've planted, in the blankets that keep the children warm, in these pillows and books and pencils.

if culture was a house, then language was the key to the front door, to all the rooms inside. Without it, he said, you ended up wayward, without proper home or a legimate identity.

He said I would appreciate later the gift he was giving me. He said that if culture was a house, then language was the key to the front door, to all the rooms inside. Without it, he said, you ended up wayward, without a proper home or a legitimate identity.

She was an illegitimate person who would never have legitimate claim to the things other people had, things such as love, family, home..

de que Dios existe, de que siempre ha existido. Lo veo aquí, en los ojos de la gente de este pasillo de desesperación. Ésta es la verdadera casa de Dios, aquí es donde los que han perdido a Dios vuelven a encontrarlo

He said that if culture was a house, then language was the key to the front door, to all the rooms inside. Without it, he said, you ended up wayward, without a proper home or a legitimate identity.

Eres un hombre honorable, Amir agha. Un verdadero afgano. —Me encogí interiormente—. Me siento orgulloso de hospedarte esta noche en mi casa —dijo Wahid.

Nul ne pourrais compter les lunes qui luisent sur ses toits Ni les mille soleils splendides qui se cachent derrière ses murs.

Notaba el frío del suelo bajo los pies descalzos y, de pronto, por primera vez desde que habíamos cruzado la frontera, sentí que estaba de vuelta en casa. Después de todos aquellos años, estaba de nuevo en casa, pisando la tierra de mis antepasados.

Perkataan Hassan ini membuatku bersedih. Aku bersedih untuk jati diri Hassan, dan untuk tempatnya tinggal. Untuk kepasrahannya menerima kenyataan bahwa dia akan menua di pondok tanah liat di halaman, seperti yang terjadi pada ayahnya.

Entering my childhood home is a little disorienting, like reading the end of a novel that I'd started, then abandoned, long ago.

nereye giderseniz gidin ülkeniz peÅŸinizden gelir.

glanced up and saw a pair of kites, red with long blue tails, soaring in the sky. They danced high above the trees on the west end of the park, over the windmills, floating side by side like a pair of eyes looking down on San Francisco, the city I now call home.

Aku dan Baba tinggal di rumah yang sama, namun dalam dimensi yang berbeda. Layang-layang adalah lembaran setipis kertas yang bisa menyatukan kedua dimensi itu.

Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I never leave the house without [my Santa hat]. In fact, I pretty much never leave my room without it. I honestly don't know how this habit started and believe me, I'd break myself of it if I could, but I'm a little bit OCD about the Santa hat. Whenever I try to put it away, I get this horrible, overwhelming feeling that somehow Christmas will be destroyed if I do.