Quotes About Home

At forty-three, I bought my first house. I'd wanted one like crazy. A house meant family, a happy childhood for my litttle girl and for the little girl self inside me. . . . I was soon overwhelmed by the upkeep and overcome by the yardwork. . . . In the bright light of closing, it was obvious: it was never a house I wanted; it was what a house symbolized to me. (254)

It was a great mistake to have come. He should have stayed at home and read his book, thought Peter Walsh; should have gone to a music hall; he should have stayed at home, for he knew no one.

For if it is rash to walk into a lion's den unarmed, rash to navigate the Atlantic in a rowing boat, rash to stand on one foot on top of St. Paul's, it is still more rash to go home alone with a poet.

Safe, safe, safe," the heart of the house beats proudly. "Long years—" he sighs. "Again you found me." "Here," she murmurs, "sleeping; in the garden reading; laughing, rolling apples in the loft. Here we left our treasure—" Stooping, their light lifts the lids upon my eyes. "Safe! safe! safe!" the pulse of the house beats wildly. Waking, I cry "Oh, is this your buried treasure? The light in the heart.

I come home—and I have a feeling of returning like a ghost to its haunt.

These old houses are only brick and wood, soaked in human sweat, grained with human dirt.

when all this and much more than all this was complete and to his liking, Orlando walked through the house with his elk hounds following and felt content.

Libertado da angústia do amor rechaçado, da vaidade recriminada e de todos os outros ferrões e espinhos com que as urtigas da vida o haviam ferido quando ambicionava a fama, mas que não podiam molestar quem desdenhava da glória, ele abriu os olhos, que tinham se mantido abertos o tempo todo mas só haviam visto pensamentos, e avistou sua casa, aninhada lá embaixo no vale.

Ya no podía distinguir, allí en la colina, cuál era su casa. Todo parecía distante y tranquilo y extraño. La orilla parecía refinada, lejana, irreal. Ya la pequeña distancia que habían navegado los había alejado de ella y le había dado el aspecto cambiado, el aspecto sereno, de algo que retrocede y de lo que ya no se forma parte.

They would, she thought, going on again, however long they lived, come back to this night; this moon; this wind; this house: and to her too. It flattered her, where she was most susceptible of flattery, to think how, wound about in their hearts, however long they lived she would be woven...

If there is anything of which I am certain in life it is that I shall never exchange the liberty of my exile for the vile parody of home.

All things considered, it had been his home, and the set of kindly, well-meaning, gentle-mannered people driven to death or exile for the sole crime of their existing, was the set to which he too belonged. His dark youthful broodings, the romantic—and let me add, somewhat artificial—passion for his mother's land, could not, I am sure, exclude real affection for the country where he had been born and bred.

Ah, the patter of little feet around the house. There's nothing like having a midget for a butler.

About the presence of death and dying I don't remember the society in the 1950s being so skittish as it has since become. People still died at home, among relatives and friends, often in the care of a family physician. Death was still to be seen sitting in the parlor, hanging in a butcher shop, sometimes lying in the street.

Doing some late-night home improvements, my man? (...) For what it's worth, I never had any use for that froufrou French shit, either." - Tegan

I want to take my girls home.

This detour was only supposed to be temporary. I never dreamed I'd find forever here.

Tegan rodó con ella sobre la cama, suavemente acomodándola debajo de su cuerpo que ya despertaba. Miró a sus ojos lavandas viéndolo con tanto amor y eso simplemente lo desarmó. La besó lentamente, con sinceridad y ternura. "Ya estoy en casa" le dijo con esa voz grave y ronca por la emoción, mientras la presionaba debajo de él. "Éste es el único hogar que siempre voy a necesitar".

You lost a brother in Alaska today, but you're always gonna have family in Boston.

I came home from the desert and my entire life blew apart. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to collect all of the pieces of who I used to be.

It's not like I'm sitting at home coming up with some secret beauty plan.

I don't think that big houses are all they're cracked up to be. I grew up in one of the biggest in town and it was nothing to envy. It was just more space for coldness and for the things that happened there to be kept quiet. Imagine how many secrets this big pile of bricks must hold since a place consists of everything that's happened there; it's a pool of memories, good and bad, all held in.

Seems to me that home is where the people who want you are.

The boy didn't know where he and his family were, other than one name: Mississippi.