Quotes About Home

I don't know what it is about food your mother makes for you, especially when it's something that anyone can make - pancakes, meat loaf, tuna salad - but it carries a certain taste of memory.

I think what you notice most when you haven't been home in a while is how much the trees have grown around your memories.

People often belittle the place where they were born.

Please make it yesterday, when Papa came home.

But I had never seen her that way. I had never known her as Pauline, the name he parents had given her, or as Posey, the name her friends had given her; only as Mom, the name I had given her. I could only see her carrying dinner to the table with kitchen mitts, or carpooling us to the bowling alley.

Still what I miss most, simple and maybe selfish as it sounds, is the twinkle in Morrie's eyes when I came in the room. But When someone is happy-genuninely happy-to see you, it melts you from the start. It is like going home.

I don't know what it is about the food your mother makes for you, especially when it's something that anyone can make - pancakes, meat loaf, tuna salad - but it carries a certain taste of memory.

The last class of my old professor's life took place once a week, in his home, by a window in his study where he could watch a small hibiscus plant shed its pink flowers.

Small towns have their own heartbeat, no matter how many people come or go.

I don't want to fight, she whispered. Just come home.

there is no foundation, no secure ground, upon which people may stand today if it isn't the family.

This is your house, Reb. You are in the rafters, the floorboards, the walls, the lights. You are in every echo through every hallway. We hear you now. I hear you still. How can I—how can any of us—let you go? You are woven through us, from birth to death.

Where do you think? the Blue Man asked. Heaven. NO! Eddie shook his head violently. NO! The Blue Man seemed amused. No? It can't be heaven? he said. Why? Because this is where you grew up? Eddie mouthed the word Yes. Ah. The Blue Man nodded. Well. People often belittle the place where they were born. But heaven can be found in the most unlikely corners. And heaven itself has many steps. This, for me, is the second. And for you, the first.

A military chaplain told me the following story: 'A soldier's little girl, whose father was being moved to a distant post, was sitting at the airport among her family's meager belongings. The girl was sleepy. She leaned against the packs and duffel bags. A lady came by, stopped, and patted her on the head. 'Poor child,' she said. 'You haven't got a home.' The child looked up in surprise. But we do have a home,' she said. 'We just don't have a house to put it in.

All sorts of strange people were around, people who looked more at home than she was, even the homeless ones who spoke no English, more at home maybe because they were younger, and when she went out it seemed to her that she too had migrated, that everyone migrates, even if we stay in the same houses our whole lives, because we can't help it. We are all migrants through time.

and all sorts of strange people were around, people who looked more at home than she was, even the homeless ones who spoke no English, more at home maybe because they were younger, and when she went out it seemed to her that she too had migrated, that everyone migrates, even if we stay in the same houses our whole lives, because we can't help it. We are all migrants through time.

and he said if anyone should leave the home they had built it was him. But as he said this he felt he was acting, or if not acting then so confused as to be incapable of gauging his own sincerity.

She would have loved to be able to hate her mother the way they did, with a breeziness carried by a fundamental trust in a home with a set table and dinner cooking.

Carrie would always have him anyway, he thought, the way she had him now. Spring smells of dirt and rainwater rose from the ground. Love was a mixed business. As in building, he couldn't afford the refinement he desired. He needed too much. Carrie had been his great romance. He hadn't been hers. With Susan it wasn't romance, exactly. It was home.

That they often do not even reach it is apparent to many parents and to most educators. The reasons for the failure are many, ranging all the way from various kinds of deprivations in the home environment—economic, social, and/or intellectual (including parental illiteracy)—to personal problems of all kinds (including total revolt against "the system").

I don't know, I don't feel right unless I've got the sea and mountains nearby. People are mostly a product of where they were born and raised. How you think and feel's always linked to the lay of the land, the temperature. The prevailing winds, even.

You are mine, Elena. If you choose to sleep in another bed, I will simply pick you up and bring you home.

I think that people have an instinct for a family. You look until you find a mother, a father, a sister, a brother. They don't have to be blood relatives. They just have to love you. And when you find them, you don't have to look anymore.

And I might offer you a little advice, Fanny, it would be to read fewer books, dear, and make your house slightly more comfortable. That is what a man appreciates in the long run.