Quotes About Home

Entramos en los cuarenta años con la inexpresada idea de que el nuestro, simple y silencioso matrimonio de hermanos, era necesaria clausura de la genealogía asentada por los bisabuelos en nuestra casa. Nos moriríamos allí algún día, vagos y esquivos primos se quedarían con la casa y la echarían al suelo para enriquecerse con el terreno y los ladrillos; o mejor, nosotros mismos la voltearíamos justicieramente antes de que fuese demasiado tarde.

pues se puede sentir pena por una casa o por un lugar. Y más por una casa y un lugar que tanto significaron para mí en un tiempo y que aún seguían significándolo como comprobé al regresar a ellos después de años sin verlos.

I think I started learning lessons about being a good person long before I ever knew what basketball was. And that starts in the home, it starts with the parental influence.

In making for ourselves a place to live, we first spread a parasol to throw a shadow on the earth, and in the pale light of the shadow we put together a house.

I'd just as soon stay home and raise babies.

I am a horror maniac who prefers to stay at home.

You can't find intimacy—you can't find home—when you're always hiding behind masks. Intimacy requires a certain level of vulnerability. It requires a certain level of you exposing your fragmented, contradictory self to someone else. You running the risk of having your core self rejected and hurt and misunderstood.

I watched commercial ave. slide past and there in the distance were the lights of route 18. that was one of those moments that would always be Rutgers for me.

If this is the United States, mail me home.

She should have kept running too but she beelined for home instead. Can you believe it? Like everybody in this damn story, she underestimated the depth of the shit she was in.

Ana Iris perguntou-me se eu o amava e eu falei-lhe das lâmpadas na minha antiga casa na capital, que estavam sempre a tremeluzir e uma pessoa nunca sabia se a luz se iria ou não abaixo. A gente interrompia o que estava a fazer e ficava à espera; não conseguíamos continuar enquanto as luzes não se decidissem. É assim que eu me sinto, disse-lhe eu.

But beautiful girl above all beautiful girls,' he wrote back, 'This is my home.

Ana Iris m-a întrebat odat? dac?-l iubesc, iar eu i-am vorbit despre luminile din vechea mea cas? din capital?, despre cum pâlpâiau È™i nu È™tiai niciodat? dac? urmau s? se sting? sau nu. ÎÈ›i laÈ™i treaba deoparte È™i aÈ™tepÈ›i È™i nu poÈ›i face cu adev?rat nimic pân? nu se hot?r?sc. Asta, i-am spus, este ceea ce simt.

In December we move into the house. It's a half-ruin and only two rooms are habitable. It resembles the first place I lived when I arrived in this country. We don't have heat for the entire winter, and for a month we have to bathe from a bucket. Casa de Campo, I call the place in jest, but he doesn't take kindly to any criticism of his "niño." Not everyone can own a home, he reminds me. I saved eight years for this.

Travel light. She extended her arms to embrace her house, maybe the whole world.

This provision (the 4th Amendment) speaks for itself. Its plain object is to secure the perfect enjoyment of that great right of the common law, that a man's house shall be his own castle, privileged against all civil and military intrusion.

A good death, everyone agreed, to die at home in bed as Prudence Jaxon had. But Peter had been at her side through the final hours and knew how terrible it had been for her, how much she'd suffered. No, there was no such thing as a good death.

God invented Iowa, he always said, so people could leave it and never come back.

Our place had just four rooms and voices had a way of carrying, you couldn't sneeze in one room without somebody in another saying bless you.

She thought she'd hate it, this huge, faceless city far from home, but the opposite was true: she felt nothing but relief. The heedless sprawl of Denver, its chaotic snarl of subdivisions and freeways; the openness of the high plains and the indifferent mountains; the way people talked to each other, easily, without pretense, and the fact that nearly everyone was from somewhere else: exiles, like her.

In the Macomb household, cocktail hour was religion.

Because that's what heaven is...it's opening the door of a house in twilight and everyone you love is there.

Four days after his own funeral, Albert Wilkes came home for Tea.

Maybe home isn't a place. Maybe it's a feeling you have inside of you, being around the people who matter to you