Quotes About Domesticity

I am not a romantic. I am a domestic animal. I do not sigh and yearn for extravagant displays of passion, for the grand affair, the world well lost for love. I know all that, and know that it leaves you lonely. No, what I crave is the simplicity of routine. An evening walk, arm in arm, in fine weather. A game of cards. Time for idle talk. Preparing a meal together.

I know what it's like to finish the laundry and to look in the basket five minutes later and it's full again. I know what it's like to pull all the groceries in, and see the teenagers run through, and all of a sudden, all of the groceries you just bought a few hours ago are gone.

I was happy just being at home looking after the kids. There was always plenty to do, and I didn't feel like doing any telly.

Don't worry, spiders, I keep house casually.

Something about this deep domesticity and respectability pleased Washington, who was never cut out for a gallivanting, footloose life. Martha gave him a secure, happy base for the myriad activities of a busy career. She was his dear companion, trusted adviser, and confidante long after lust faded, and they delighted in each other's company.

Spirituality doesn't look like sitting down and meditating. Spirituality looks like folding the towels in a sweet way and talking kindly to the people in the family eve though you've had a rough day.

I know now that what was wrong with her was too much energy and intelligence. Cleaning a room and kitchen, serving a husband and son, entertaining the neighbours did not use her up.

she lets us see, she lets us think, she lets us feel, that we can get to a position where we do not have to struggle, we do not have to choose, and that there are ways of being in the world that allow us, in the same breath, to live in our domestic ordinariness and still create.

I worked in between carpools and buying food and cooking and whatever else I had to do. I lived an outside life, but really I was living an inside life.

I lead a life of blameless domesticity and always have done.

When he came home I was well groomed, fragrant, feminine. He never saw a laundry bag, a dust cloth, or a hair curler. I hope he never knew that such things existed!

Don't cook. Don't clean. No man will ever make love to a woman because she waxed the linoleum - "My God, the floor's immaculate. Lie down, you hot bitch."

At the end of the nineteenth century, economist Charlotte Perkins Gilman complained that housework was the only job that had not been modernized.)

Emily is in the parlour brushing the carpet," records Charlotte in 1828. Unsociable even at home

The transformations undergone by the meaning of love are characterized by: 1) the extrication of love from religion, that is, the secularization of the discourse of love 2) the increasing prominence of the theme of love in mass culture, especially in film and advertising 3) the glorification of the theme of love as a supreme value and the equation of love with happiness 4) the inclusion of 'intensity' and 'fun' in the new definitions of romance, marriage, and domesticity

As ants, so soldiers. In the years to come he was to see the process at work again and again, sometimes in grim circumstances, sometimes in pleasant domesticity. Men unnaturally removed from wives and family began at once to build substitute homes, to paint and furnish, to make flower-beds and edge them with white-washed pebbles, to stitch cushion-covers on lonely gun-sites.

know, Mother. Doesn't everybody clean their venetian blinds with a Q-tip twice a day? Duh!

I'm a family man. I like being home.

Our favorite thing to do is stay at home. We're always on the road doing something, so being able to have one night off at home is perfect.

I am very domesticated. Some of my favorite things in life are being a mother and a wife. That's where I get the most enjoyment from.

Oh, there's so much ego with men; in their head, they can't possibly think about Tesco's when they are doing Othello. Er, why not? They want to think that they are such geniuses they can't muddy their day with domesticity, and I've got no truck with it whatsoever.

I've become a real housewife. Terry doesn't mind me working, in fact he loves me to be independent. But I only get an allowance of $15 dollars a week, which doesn't go very far.

I planned to spend mine in new music, said Beth, with a little sigh, which no one heard but the hearth brush and kettle-holder.

The girls flew about, trying to make things comfortable, each in her own way. Meg arranged the tea table, Jo brought wood and set chairs, dropping, over-turning, and clattering everything she touched. Beth trotted to and fro between parlor kitchen, quiet and busy, while Amy gave directions to everyone, as she sat with her hands folded.