Quotes About Home

Yes, she was lovely. But more than that, she was warm and funny and loving. Hot-tempered one moment, and laughing the next. And she could make a home anywhere. She carried a sort of security about with her. I can't think of a single person who didn't love her. I still think about her every day of my life. Sometimes she seems very dead. And other times, I can't believe that she isn't somewhere in the house and that a door won't open and she'll be there.

The worst thing that can befall a family is to have its mother in hospital. The entire world becomes disoriented, the home has lost its heartbeat, there is no answer when you call. [Victoria, 'Magic Might Happen']

told her. "There's smoke in the chimney

What do you suppose their

All the estate houses were the same design. Two up and two down. Originally. Little kitchens and bathrooms were added on after the war.

Rosamunde Pilcher

As soon as you went through the door for the first time, you got the feel of the atmosphere, and so discovered something about the personalities of the people who lived there.

All you men still have the Victorian hangover. I suppose you think woman's place is in the home, too?" "Not my home.

We merged our lonelinesses once again, in something less than love but sweeter than self. I didn't get home to West Los Angeles after all.

If we assume man has been corrupted by an artificial civilization, what is the natural state? the state of nature from which he has been removed? imagine, wandering up and down the forest without industry, without speech, and without home.

Now Rann the Kite brings home the night

An ounce of mother is worth a pound of cure.

In me you exist,' says the house.

I kept driving straight on toward what we called home and could not say aloud the words that were thrashing me, as if somehow by remaining silent I could keep the terrible thing from having occurred.

Oh, yes, said Mother, you may be sure that there will always be plenty of chocolate cake around here.

On the far side stretched the open Pacific and beyond, but the crow could not fly high enough to see its way home.

It also felt like home, and she wasn't sure she liked it.

The weather was gray, the streets filled with that Sunday morning silence that makes you feel like everybody else is home with people that they love.

I felt for the first time that the library belonged here. The house was reclaiming its spirit, and the library, which had stood aloof and apart for so many years, was turning back into what it was always meant to be: the heart of this home.

home. Recognizing him, she said this before he

People who dislike budging from their homes or walking beyond their own backyards--and they are always and everywhere in the majority--treat Herodotus' sort, fundamentally unconnected to anyone or anything, as freaks, fanatics, lunatics even.

Metaphorically speaking, a person's ideas must be the building he lives in - otherwise there is something terribly wrong.

Mine': what does this word mean? Not what belongs to me, but what I belong to, what contains my whole being, which is mine only so far as I belong to it. My God is not the God that belongs to me, but the God to whom I belong; and so, too, when I say my native land, my home, my calling, my longing, my hope. If there had been no immortality before, this thought that I am yours would be a breach of the normal course of nature." —Johannes the Seducer, from_Either/Or_

mingling with the remains of the plane, equally fragmented, equally absurd, there floated the debris of the soul, broken memories, sloughed-off selves, severed mother tongues, violated privacies, untranslatable jokes, extinguished futures, lost loves, the forgotten meaning of hollow, booming words, land, belonging, home.