Home Quotes - Page 10

For home had a way of shifting, of changing shape and temperature. Home was homeless. It could exist anywhere, because its only substance was familiarity. If it was broken by long journeys or tornadoes it emerged again, reinvented itself with new decor, new idiosyncrasies of morning, noon and dusk, and old routines.

Make your heart, your dearest home.

Eventually we all must return home.

No matter who you are or where you are, instinct tells you to go home

Home is not where you live but where they understand you.

If we really believe what we say we believe- 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. There are, aren't there, only three things we can do about death: to desire it, to fear it, or to ignore it. The third alternative, which is the one the modern world calls "healthy" is surely the most uneasy and precarious of all.

Nothing was so likely to do her good as a little quiet cheerfulness at home.

Go where the situation takes you, but never forget where you came from, where you belong and the direction of where you entered in.

Don't seek the devil in the place which he calls his home

Children nurtured in kindness learn the value of understanding. Children taught to be self-sufficient, to respect others, to value education and to build life up rather than to tear it down will become adults capable of leading us to a brighter future. For (as Karl Menninger noted) what's done to children, they will do to society.

Nothing else has the power to calm, comfort, and care for you better than home.

Build your home in small moments of joy, and you will always feel at home.

Your house, being the place in which you read, can tell us the position books occupy in your life, if they are a defense you set up to keep the outside world at a distance, if they area dream into which you sink as if into a drug, or bridges you cast toward the outside, toward the world that interests you so much that you want to multiply and extend its dimensions through books.

olivia reminds me of a bird sometimes, how her feathers get all ruffled when she's mad. and when she's fragile like this, she's a little lost bird looking for its nest.

I believe home is where the heart can be open and loving with a sense of security. It must not be a place of fear.

These are all I have. I do not have the wide, bright beacon of some solid old lighthouse, guiding ships safely home, past the jaggedrocks. I only have these little glimmers that flicker and then go out.

Home is the best place to teach young men and women about God’s kind of love.

Home is the place that expects the most of you, but still welcomes you at your worst. And she has always been my home, my Merminia.

You know what I remember most vividly from that hospital? There were creases in the pillowcase. "I was in pain when they brought me in. They'd bandaged me up before transporting me, but they hand't had anything to deaden that kind of pain. So I wasn't clear in my head. I don't remember who was holding the stretcher, anything like that. "But when they lifted me up, and I looked at the cot I'd be transferred to, even as they tipped me onto it, I noticed the creases in the pillowcase, and it was everything I could do not to cry. You get used to things being dusty and gritty and oily, you really do, but then, when there's something clean, something that's been folded carefully, and unfolded carefully and it's there for your head, it's like your heart, it's like I don't know, I can't describe it.

Space is a precious thing to waste. You don't want to fill your house with anything that doesn't directly add to your happiness.

It's not like you can just stop loving someone overnight

,,So maybe, for me, home is not the city, but the people.

I mean . . . I don't know. I don't know what I want to do, or who I want to be, or where I want to live. I don't know. I like reading about adventure, sure, but I also like doing it from the safety of home. But what is home, besides a quilt-covered bed? Where is it?

Now go. Leaving quickly is the best thing you can do. Don't think about it, don't look back, and don't think that what's behind you is better than what's in front because it's not. Not in the very least, Hannah.

History will see this as the residential commodification era, in which housing provision seemed to lose all contact between supply and demand of housing as a utility and simply focused on supply and demand of investment — and that is worrying. Investment is good for the economy, but the investment you want is investment that goes into creating homes, workplaces and infrastructure, not investing in owning them and inflating asset prices.

Home isn't a place. Home is the people who love you most, the people who will always love you, forever and ever, no matter what.

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)

This is not just "our" world.

Maybe, in the end, a home is a place where you have no other choice but to stay.

I forgot how good it feels to be rooted. And to be rooted is not the same thing at all as being tied down. To be rooted is to say, here I am nourished and here will I grow, for I have found a place where every sunrise shows me how to be more than what I was yesterday, and I need not wander to feel the wonder of my blessing. And when you are rooted, defending that space ceases to be an obligation or a duty and becomes more of a desire.

Nature is not a place to visit. It is home.

Best way to live in California is to be from somewheres else.

To feel your arms around me...to feel your breath on my neck...is pleasure in itself. It is home.

This earth in which we are living is not our everlasting home

I don't know which is worse: that I'm home and so much is different, or that I'm home and so much feels the same.

Home is in here [tapping temple]. Where you live is just a geographical preference.

Warm familiar scents drift softly from the oven,And imprint forever upon our heartsThat this is homeand that we are loved.

Better to have a messy home and happy children than a perfect yard and unhappy children

I acknowledge that a wife does (and should) exercise a degree of control in the family and home; but what I present is not a constructive form aimed at supporting a healthy relationship, but a destructive form that—whether intended or not—destroys a relationship through the invocation of fear and flight rather than love and commitment. I also propose that this method or “device” (as I have called it) was learned in part from a very young age from her parents.

On gray days, when it's snowing or raining, I think you should be able to call up a judge and take an oath that you'll just read a good book all day, and he'd allow you to stay home.

And that, she thought as he left her, summed up the miracle of her life. She had a home with him, and he'd be there.

How could I wish for it for so long, only to come back and find it gone. To be here, in my technical house, and discover that home is now someplace different.

I'm looking at the ruins of my own existence and knowing, with a sickening certainty, that my old home and my old life have been truly destroyed.

The contemplative man always lives alone. Regardless of who may reside in his home, his is a solitary world.

Every creature on earth returns to home. It is ironic that we have made wildlife refuges for ibis, pelican, egret, wolf, crane, deer, mouse, moose, and bear, but not for ourselves in the places we live day after day. We understand that the loss of habitat is the most disastrous event that can occur to a free creauture. We fervently point out how other creatures' natural territories have become surrounded by cities, ranches, highways, noise, and other dissonance, as though we are not affected also. We know that for creatures to live on, they must at least from time to time have a home place, a place where they feel both protected and free

There is no Better place like Home till we find the right One

But sometimes even people who care about each other need some time apart.

You can live for a long time inside the shell you were born in. But one day it'll become too small.""Then what?" I ask."Well, then you'll have to find a larger shell to live in."I consider this for a moment. "What if it's too small but you still want to live there?"She sighs. "Gracious, child, what a question. I suppose you'll either have to be brave and find a new home or you'll have to live inside a broken shell.

I understood finding the place you are born in an unbearable prison and wanting something completely different from what you are familiar with, knowing it represents a haven.

I don’t have home without him”, Carrie said when doctor asked her to go home.“I won’t give up on him. Do you hear me, Doctor? Don’t you give up on him!

I had always thought of home not as a house, or even a place, but a feeling of safety and acceptance, a warm light when the rest of the world was a dark, forbidding place.Whenever my family was around, wherever we were, I felt like I was home.

London is satisfied, Paris is resigned, but New York is always hopeful. Always it believes that something good is about to come off, and it must hurry to meet it.

You could just tell when a person belonged somewhere. That is something you can't fake, no matter how hard you try

Coming back to Karachi is like stepping into the sea again after months on land. How easily you float, how peaceful is the sense of being borne along, and how familiar the sound of the water lapping against your limbs.

Home development is about wishful thinking. It's about capturing a dream.

Home was merely a dull ache in the back of his memory. A tiredness in his eyes.

It was his home now. But it could not be his home till he had gone from it and returned to it. Now he was the Prodigal Son.

One can build a perfect home, but not live in it.

Of course, it’s now obvious why he was so angry that day. People don’t move into hospice to live but to die. And that half an egg sandwich I ended up making him–that sandwich was the last meal he ate in our Haight-Ashbury apartment, our one true home.

This is home, it's the only place I want to be, but at the same time everything familiar feels strange. It's the same as it ever was except without the people who most belong here.