Quotes About Home

Concordia experienced a profound rush of relief. He was safely home. Now, perhaps she would be able to shake off the feeling of dread that has descended on her after he had left.

Did she really think her sojourns back to Adamant were going to finally earn his love and approval? After all these years? That's not why I'm here. She'd come home, because the demons that had to be confronted were here. The evil that had to be vanquished... was right here in this house.

Indubitably, eighteenth-century literature contains much that nineteenth-century historians might identify as 'domestic ideology', yet these themes were far from revolutionary. The dialectical polarity between home and world is an ancient trope of western writing; the notion that women were uniquely fashioned for the private realm is at least as old as Aristotle.

the spread of capitalistic organization concentrated manufacturing on central premises–separating the home and workplace, with devastating consequences for female enterprise.

You'll never truly be happy until you've found a place that you can call your own. A place that will be in your heart.

I buy records - vinyl. I have a record player at home.

That is the great mistake about the affections. It is not the rise and fall of empires, the birth and death of kings, or the marching of armies that move them most. When they answer from their depths, it is to the domestic joys and tragedies of life.

The more one does and sees and feels, the more one is able to do, and the more genuine may be one's appreciation of fundamental things like home, and love, and understanding companionship.

So sind meine Berge nun mal: vereinen Heimatverbundenheit und Fernweh, sind Ort der Zuflucht und der Durchreise, ein Land, in dem Milch und Honig fließt, aber auch Blut. Weder Paradies noch Hölle. Fegefeuer.

Some women's arms are places of exile; others are a native land.

Il y a des bras de femmes qui sont des lieux d'exil, et d'autres qui sont la terre natale

Some women's arms are placed of exile; others are a native land.

do not know what the books say, but I was born here sixty years ago and only foreigners have ever spoken to me of the city of Isfahan. I have never seen it.

Yes Sierra Leone to me was both utterly familiar and ineffably alien: I knew it but I could not claim to understand it.

Years ago, my mother and I fell in love with Busybee's voice, its calm, even tone, and a smile which was always audible in the language. My father, meanwhile, is clipping his nails fastidiously, letting them fall on to an old, spread-out copy of the Times of India, till he sneezes explosively, as he customarily does, sending the crescent-shaped nail-clippings flying into the universe.

He has a traditional shopper's DNA, an eye for freshness and appearance, and a consistent sense of a home to go back to.

People like my grandmother, who have no home but in memory, learn to be very skilled in the art of recollection.

The truth, Your Honor, is that the immigrant feels at home in guilt... the guilt of having abandoned my parents. A slippery slope, this. My father, my mother, my motherland, my mother tongue.

Where there is a mother in the house, matters speed well.

Where there is a mother in the home, matters go well.

I have been lonely in my life but never when drinking strong coffee, wearing my fleecy slippers, and standing in my own kitchen.

Every woman's body is an intimate landscape. The hills, the valleys, the narrow ledges, the riverbanks, the sudden eruptions of soft or crinkling hair. Here are the plains, the fine dry slopes. Here are the woods, here is the smooth path to the only door I wish to walk through. Eleanor's body is the landscape of my true home.

married. Edgar went back into the parlor

Since I travel so much, it's always great to be home. There's nothing like getting to raid my own refrigerator at two in the morning.