Quotes About Home

Fighting it the way a salmon fights against the current of the river in which it's going to die. Like a salmon --- that aquatic Zionist, forever dreaming of its fatal home.

He had lived alone most of his life. He was used to places that were empty. He knew the real shelter of a home was inside yourself.

The setting sun burned the sky pink and orange in the same bright hues as surfers' bathing suits. It was beautiful deception, Bosch thought, as he drove north on the Hollywood Freeway to home. Sunsets did that here. Made you forget it was the smog that made their colors so brilliant, that behind every pretty picture there could be an ugly story.

That's the problem here. It's Sunday. Everybody wants to go home. Play golf. Sell houses. Watch the ballgame. Nobody cares one way or the other. Just going through the motions.

turned the car around and it floated quietly down Lookout Mountain to Laurel Canyon. He took a right and drove to the canyon market, where he bought a six-pack of Anchor Steam. Then he took his beer and his questions back up the hill to Mulholland. He drove to Woodrow Wilson Drive and then down to his small house that stood on cantilevers and looked out across the Cahuenga Pass.

gone to Gladden's home in a rage after his five-year-old son revealed that he had been molested by

Photographs provided a tangible reality to men who were far from home, fearful and tired; they were posed proofs of success, souvenirs to send to sweethearts and loved ones, or simply ways of remembering, of grasping a moment in a swift changing and uncertain world.

for the door to the house had many bolts, locks, bars, and fasteners, as is common in the dwellings of misers.

Et pendant une minute elle est exactement semblable à son image : une femme agenouillée dans une cuisine à côté de son fils de trois ans, qui sait compter jusqu'à quatre. Elle est elle-même et la parfaite illustration de ce qu'elle est.

Without memory how will you ever find your way back to where you came from?

Nach Hause zu kommen. Und nun ist da nur diese Dunkelheit und Leere. Ich hätte es wissen müssen, dass man niemals zurückkehren kann. Ich bin nicht mehr, der ich war, darum ist nichts mehr, wie es war. Jetzt weiß ich es.

Perhaps the home I am homesick for is still there, after all.

I was gonna put him on the bus...I got tired of him talking, it was time for him to go home.

A Home without Equity Is Just a Rental with Debt

16 billion in complex securities whose value ultimately turned on the ability of a Las Vegas stripper with five investment properties, or a Mexican strawberry picker with a single $750,000 home, to make rapidly rising interest payments.

The American Home of the Future, it went without saying, would be controlled and monitored by a computer. The computer would permit the owner to enter into a new, fantastic relationship with his dwelling.

The big takeaways seemed to be what everyone was just then figuring out: the virus was disproportionately attacking poor people of color unable to work from home; and lots of infectious people were walking around without a clue about their condition.

I found that if schools are closed AND preschoolers, children and teens are restricted to the home epidemics that would have infected 65% of the population COULD BE REDUCED BY NEARLY 80%," she wrote. "If adults also restrict their contacts within non-essential work environments epidemics from such highly infective strains can be ENTIRELY THWARTED!

you could rent a million-dollar home for less than $833 a month.

our home should be an oasis of peace and harmony for us in a troubled world

It is so beautiful but home is home, and home is best.

Welcome to my neck of the woods. I love that phrase. As if it were part of a body.

The Bedouin were keeping me alive for a reason. I was useful, you see. Someone there had assumed I had a skill when my plane crashed in the desert. I am a man who can recognize an unnamed town by its skeletal shape on a map. I have always had information like a sea in me. I am a person who if left alone in someone's home walks to the bookcase, pulls down a volume and inhales it. So history enters us.

My room, my books, my house, the garden, my interest in everything around me renewed by absence. This little world suddenly special, no longer commonplace … something to relish. It's a remarkable feeling and one which I count as paradoxically one of the great pleasures of travel. The almost sensuous delight in the ordinary and commonplace.