Quotes About Homelessness

You'd think the homeless would despise the rest of us, but it seems the thing they want to do most is talk. If only they could sit us down and let it all spill out - every twist of their history, down to the last murmur - then they'd be cured.

And it is strange: a few moments after the cars that brought us down drive off, I become aware that already I have discovered something new. Because we do not have a place of our own, nor will have for the next three days, we must invent one. I catch myself, and the eyes of one or two others, searching for a section of the pavement with which we might want to become familiar. We are looking among the concrete slabs for the outline of a home.

Black rage shook him. He hadn't had a place to sleep, he hadn't had food, he couldn't even get a beer in this goddamn stinking lousy town. He was ready to turn and walk out when he saw wedged at a table against a wall, McIntyre. In the same silly hat, the red sash. Mac hadn't seen him yet. Mac was watching the dance floor. Sailor knew then that the Sen was here. The Sen and Iris Towers. He took his stance in the room.

fact, he traveled nonstop for nearly forty-five years, covering three hundred thousand miles on horseback, crossing the Appalachian Mountains more than sixty times in the process, preaching sixteen thousand sermons, and ordaining four thousand Methodist preachers. He had no home—literally—and once told an English friend to address all future letters to him "in America.

I was brought up as an only child, and we were very close. But when I was 14, we got evicted. We came home to a padlock, and I looked up at my mom and she was crying, and there was nothing to do.

Last year, even my best friend, Keisha, stopped speaking to me when my family became homeless.

No home anymore. Nowhere to return. My house is a ruin, a cemetery. You may yearn for the grave, but just try living there.

She stood looking down at the spot where she'd woken up shivering after sleeping outside on her first night in London. She recalled the chill, the loneliness, the feeling that she'd been on the run all her life. But nothing had been stronger than the hope that surged through her that drizzly morning.

I told you you could hang around and work for food, she said, if you don't mind sleeping in that car yonder. Why listen, Lady, he said with a grin of delight, the monks of old slept in their coffins! They wasn't as advanced as we are, the old woman said.

People with mental illnesses are dying on our streets. More than 350,000 are in jails and prisons. Most are people whose only real crime is they got sick.

Often I feel powerless when I hear stories about animals in shelters across the country whose lives are taken simply because they have no safe place to call home, but raising funds through Strut Your Mutt helps people help these pets.

The homeless often feel invisible, allowed to plummet through widening holes in the social safety net, then hidden in doorways from which people avert their eyes.

Personally, I have met many widows who've been thrown out of their homes. I had done a fund-raising event to help widows supported by Bala Vikasa group in Warangal.

Living and working in the centre of a city, one cannot but be affected by the sight of the homeless on the streets. They are almost an expected feature of life in a big city, and it is tempting to think there is little or nothing that can, or even should, be done about it. This is not so.

We ought to be doing that with decent standard housing but if we have people who are absolutely on the streets in this case, I think it makes sense that tent cities are preferred to not having tent cities.

This is 2017, nobody should be sleeping in a tent on the concrete in the middle of Martin Place - it's not safe for them.

I did not allow tent encampments on the streets when I was mayor of San Diego.

If you allow people to live in a tent encampment then you are condemning them to die there.

I strongly believe that if we would allow tent encampments on the sidewalks, people are going to die on the sidewalks, and we're better than that.

Frankly, it's depressing, each night sleeping in someone else's home. I miss having a roof to my name. Our situation isn't an 'All in the Family' cliche, but it's still easy to see reality in plain terms: I live with my in-laws, and I can't say when that will change.

You know, if you ain't poor, you might think it's the folks in them big ole fine brick churches that's doin all the carin and the prayin. I wish you coulda seen all them little circles a'homeless folks with their heads bowed and their eyes closed, whisperin what was on their hearts. Seemed like they didn't have nothin to give, but they was givin what they had, taken the time to knock on God's front door and ask Him to heal this woman that loved them.

You can't help those who simply will not be helped. One problem that we've had, even in the best of times, is people who are sleeping on the grates, the homeless who are homeless, you might say, by choice.

The blues is just another name for not having any place

Homeless shelters, child hunger, and child suffering have become normalized in the richest nation on earth. It's time to reset our moral compass and redefine how we measure success.