Quotes About Home

When a writer knows home in his heart, his heart must remain subtly apart from it.

I find myself wanting to make music at the dining room table or in the bedroom - I'm kind of a mobile writer, so I sort of move around the house. But the attic is definitely where I can make the most noise. While everyone on the lower floors screams 'Earthquake!' But no! It's just my bass!

I don't have a whole bunch of literary connections. I don't write reviews or attend writer's conferences. I'm kind of shy and don't want to go to a party. I just want to stay home and read my murder mysteries and try to write and cook dinner.

Peter Lucas and I live in Durham but spend a great of time in North Wales, where we have a cottage in the mountains, and in Vermont, USA, with my sister - who is a children's writer married to a poet.

Everybody is a regionalist. Tolstoy is a regionalist - one is where one lives, where one writes.

When I do have free time, I spend it with friends, or I spend it at home writing or making something.

I'm very physical. When I'm writing, I'm playing all the parts; I'm saying the lines out loud, and if I get excited about something - which doesn't happen very often when I'm writing, but it's the greatest feeling when it does - I'll be out of the chair and walking around, and if I'm at home, I'll find myself two blocks from my house.

I am into the candle business, have a home store, The White Window, and interior designing is my primary occupation, though writing now seems to have become better known.

Under every roof, a story, just as behind every brow, a history

Maybe the definition of home is the place where you are never forgiven, so you may always belong there, bound by guilt. And maybe the cost of belonging is worth it.

You leave home, I have learned, counting the trip day by day. If you ever get to return, you count the trip miracle by miracle.

We don't get an endless number of orbits away from the place where meaning first arises, that treasure-house of first experiences. What we learn, instead, is that our adventures secure us in our isolation. Experience revokes our license to return to simpler times. Sooner or later, there's no place remotely like home.

I have so few choices, really, if I can't get myself back home. Maybe that's what growing up means, in the end—you go out far enough in the direction of—somewhere—and you realize that you've neutered the capacity of the term home to mean anything.

Talvez a definição de lar seja o local onde você nunca é perdoado, então você sempre vai se encaixar lá, presa pela culpa. E talvez o custo de pertencer a algum lugar valha a pena.

Maybe the definition of home is the place where you are never forgiven, so you may always belong there, bound by guilt.

The only home for an exile is exile.

The last light with any real warmth had been at home, long ago, in a place and a time that no longer existed, with people whose names he didn't say even inside his own mind.

I knew I wouldn't discover happiness in a faraway place or in unusual circumstances; it was right here, right now— as in the haunting play The Blue Bird, where two children spend a year searching the world for the Blue Bird of Happiness, only to find it waiting for them when they finally return home.

Think about appearances. I wanted my apartment to be less cluttered, and also to look less cluttered.

A happy home wasn't a place that I could furnish, but an attitude of mind I must develop.

Behind our unremarkable front door waits the little world of our own making, a place of safety, exploration, comfort, and love.

Gertrude Stein remarked, "Anything one does every day is important and imposing and anywhere one lives is interesting and beautiful.

Robert Frost wrote, home is "Something you somehow haven't to deserve.

I had everything that I could wish for; I wanted to make my home happier by appreciating how much happiness was already there.