Quotes About Domesticity

Solo después de casarse descubrió Galip que en la vida de aquella persona anónima a la que las estadísticas y los encasillamientos burocráticos llaman ama de casa (aquella mujer con detergente e hijos que Galip jamás había podido relacionar con Rüya) existía una región así de secreta, así de misteriosa y así de resbaladiza.

I'm of two minds about this shit. Two minds. Yeah. I aint sure I'm cut out for domestic bliss. Probably not.

Miriam entered. All alone? she said. Yes. As if at home, she took off her tam o'shanter and her long coat, hanging them up. It gave him a thrill. This might be their own house, his and hers.

He went straight to the sink where his wife was washing up. What, are thee there! he said boisterously. Sluther off an' let me wesh my-sen. You may wait till I've finished, said his wife. Oh mun I? - An' what if I shonna? This good-humoured threat amused Mrs Morel. Then you can go and wash yourself in the soft water tub.... With which he stood watching her a moment, then went away to wait for her.

he was practical about what he wanted in a wife. Deborah was rather plain, but she offered the prospect of comfort and domesticity.

In other words, he saw himself as simply doing at home what his fellow Europeans had long been doing abroad.

When you finally achieve a modus vivendi with your kitchen, you have been acculturated. You have learned a way of life.

There are days when any electrical appliance in the house, including the vacuum cleaner, offers more entertainment than the TV set.

Along with a career, four children and a husband, she bakes and cooks, sews, preserves, sings, embroiders, gardens, arranges flowers, decorates cakes, and makes kayaks and pottery.

I love to cook and really enjoy cleaning my house. People always tease me about getting a maid. My girlfriend tells me that they are only $40 and will do everything. But that is my time to unwind, put my hair in a ponytail, throw on sweats, and be myself.

The worst thing about work in the house or home is that whatever you do is destroyed laid waste or eaten within twenty-four hours.

But perhaps the greatest escapism of all is to take refuge in the domesticity of the past, the home that history and literature become, avoiding the one moment of time in which we are not at home, yet have to live: the present.

Much is said about escapism in narrative and fiction. But perhaps the greatest escapism of all is to take refuge in the domesticity of the past, the home that history and literature become, avoiding the one moment of time in which we are not at home, yet have to live: the present.

we baked all our own bread;

You were breaking my bones and spirit and forcing your beastly love on me: a brute, a savage, a wild Indian wouldn't do what you did, slobbering round me and calling it love and filling me with children month after month and year after year while I hated and detested you and screamed in your ears to get away from me, but you wouldn't let me go.

There's definitely a feminist version of false consciousness. If you're trapped as a housewife, you begin to take pride in how shiny your taps are, castigate other women whose taps are not sufficiently shiny, and refuse to contemplate a world in which shiny taps are not the best measure of your worth as a human being. You do not question why, if shiny taps are so important, you're not being paid to clean them

That society is badly arranged which forces nearly all women to be servants. Marie, who is as good as I am, will have spent her life in cleaning, in stooping amid dust and hot fumes, over head and ears in the great artificial darkness of the house. I used to find it all natural. Now I think it is all anti-natural.

The free pen, prone to pour out the suggestions of artless affection, vivid imagination, or domestic anecdote, is as much woman's especial instrument as the needle.

Some men are born husbands; they have a passion for domesticity, for a fireside, for a home. Yet, curiously, these men very rarely stay at home. Apparently what they want is to have a place to get away from.

I don't have a nanny or a housekeeper, and I only have a cleaner for one hour each week. I finish work and go home. I cook the dinner. I run into Tesco and do the housework in the evening.

The fact of the matter is I'm 21 now. I stay home. I feed my dogs. I don't really go out. I work.

Housewives of the 1950s were supposed to create show-stopping meals every night for their hard-working husbands.

I live with my boyfriend, but we never cook together. It's too stressful.

Our little cat comes for a snuggle, then the big cat mews for a stroke and moves a few paces, then another stroke, then another few paces, until we realise he has mewed us into the kitchen where their food bowls are. So they eat, we eat, and then we get on with our days.