Quotes About Home

I never cooked at home - my father was the chef.

My kids are just waiting for me at home. I'm their father. They're wondering, 'When's Daddy coming home?'

Last winter when I was coming home from church one Thursday evening, I saw somebody run around the house again. I told my father of that.

When I was coming home from school as a youngster, and I saw my dad's car in the driveway, I would go to a friend's house. I connected my dad being there with fear.

Mr. Knightley to be no longer coming there for his evening comfort! - No longer walking in at all hours, as if ever willing to change his own home for their's! - How was it to be endured?

This is not primarily the place we have to be, it is the place where we are. It is not our prison, but our home. It is the road we must walk, and the walking of it is called life. Because we walk it only once, then how important is it that we should walk it with some purpose that we can call our own.

Some people look for a beautiful place, Others make a place beautiful.

I'm very happy to say that my home life is my haven.

Moral sentences appear ostentatious and tumid, when they have no greater occasions than the journey of a wit to his home town: yet such pleasures and such pains make up the general mass of life; and as nothing is little to him that feels it with gre

Home life as we understand it is no more natural to us than a cage is natural to a cockatoo.

The happiest moments of my life have been the few which I have passed at home in the bosom of my family.

A man builds a fine house; and now he has a master, and a task for life: he is to furnish, watch, show it, and keep it in repair, the rest of his days.

The friends who grew up with you deserve a special respect- the ones who stuck by you shoulder to shoulder, in a time when nothing was certain, all life lay ahead, and every road led home.

If we really think that home is elsewhere and that this life is a 'wandering to find home,'' why should we not look forward to the arrival?

Now I know how the river feels, when it reaches the sea and finally finds the place it was always meant to be. Holding fast, home at last, knowing the journey is through. Laying here with you...

Family is the best thing you could ever wish for. They are there for you during the ups and downs, and love you no matter what.

There are just some 4-letter-words that I will not tolerate: dust, wash, cook, iron...

Family is not just a word. It's who you are, where you came from and where you will always belong.

Pleasure in this respect is like photography. What we take, in the presence of the beloved object, is merely a negative, which we develop later, when we are back at home, and have once again found at our disposal that inner dark-room the entrance to which is barred to us so long as we are with other people.

Every night perhaps, we accept the risk of experiencing, while we sleep, sufferings that we consider to be null and void because they will be endured only in the course of a sleep that we believe is without consciousness. In fact, on the evenings when I returned home late from La Raspelière, I was very sleepy. But as soon as the cold weather arrived, I was unable to get to sleep right away, because the fire was so bright it was as if a lamp had been lit.

I saw her thus, solid, flushed, opulent and captive, returning home quite naturally with myself, as a woman who was my own property, and, protected by its walls, disappearing into our house. Unfortunately, she seemed to feel herself a prisoner there, and to share the opinion of that Mme. de La Rochefoucauld who, when somebody asked her whether she was not glad to live in so beautiful a home as Liancourt, replied: "There is no such thing as a beautiful prison

Pleasures are like photographs: in the presence of the person we love, we take only negatives, which we develop later, at home, when we have at our disposal once more our inner darkroom, the door of which it is strictly forbidden to open while others are present.

Houses are very important. Describe your house and I'll tell you who you are. Your world is there. It's what covers you, like a bird's feathers.

La vida entera transcurre en la cocina