Best 12501 quotes in «home quotes» category

His voice was everything she equated with home.

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 cooking is always concerned with quality, because people you care about will eat the meal.

Home is not an address with fine curtains and fancy furnishings. Home is a place in the mind where thoughts grow rich enough to become stories, breaking the silence that exists between souls.

Home isn’t a place. Home is anywhere, just as long as the people you love are there.

Home isn't these four walls. Home is wherever we are together.

Home is where we tie one end of the thread of life.

Home. It's where we come from. Who we are.

Home.” This was my mantra, my four-letter savior.

Home was a refuge for me, a place I could truly relax.

Home wasn't always warm, and wasn't always safe, but home was hers. And it was not this prison.

Home was where others had to gather grace. Home was what I wanted to flee.

Home was wherever they were together, and it felt good.

Home can be the Pennsylvania Turnpike Indiana's early morning dew High up in the hills of California Home is just another word for you

...home is a magnet that lures back even its most abstracted children. But whether tomorrow or years from now, I cannot guess.

Home is not a place. Home is security, predictability, reliability, dependability, safety, permanence combined together.

Home is not where you have to go but where you want to go; nor is it a place where you are sullenly admitted, but rather where you are welcomed – by the people, the walls, the tiles on the floor, the followers beside the door, the play of life, the very grass.

Home isn't a place. It's not having a bed to come home to, or a yard, or a Christmas tree at the holidays. Home is the people who love you.

Home isn't just a trailer or four walls and a roof, home is the people that you 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.

Home is where the brain rots.

Home is where they have to accept you.

Home is where you can go and rest and be nothing

Home is where you keep your books!

Home is where your books are.

Home is within me, no matter where I go, no matter what happens to our planet or our people.

Home's what's left over when you've figured out all the places you don't want to be. Sounds stupid, doesn't it? But that's what we do. We say not there and not there and not there, until there's only one place left.

Home was not the place where you were born but the place you created yourself, where you did not need to explain, where you finally became what you were.

Home? What is home? Home is where a house is that you come back to when the rainy season is about to begin, to wait until the next dry season comes around. Home is where your woman is, that you come back to in the intervals between a greater love - the only real love - the lust for riches buried in the earth, that are your own if you can find them. Perhaps you do not call it home, even to yourself. Perhaps you call them 'my house,' 'my woman,' What if there was another 'my house,' 'my woman,' before this one? It makes no difference. This woman is enough for now. Perhaps the guns sounded too loud at Anzio or at Omaha Beach, at Guadalcanal or at Okinawa. Perhaps when they stilled again some kind of strength had been blasted from you that other men still have. And then again perhaps it was some kind of weakness that other men still have. What is strength, what is weakness, what is loyalty, what is perfidy? The guns taught only one thing, but they taught it well: of what consequence is life? Of what consequence is a man? And, therefore, of what consequence if he tramples love in one place and goes to find it in the next? The little moment that he has, let him be at peace, far from the guns and all that remind him of them. So the man who once was Bill Taylor has come back to his house, in the dusk, in the mountains, in Anahuac. ("The Moon Of Montezuma")

Home will never be the same once you know what you are. Your whole life will change.

Home at that moment was a starless night, a steady wind, not a human to be seen.

Homecoming is a single word, and we use it to describe a single event. But true homecoming requires more time. It seems to be a process rather than a moment. Perhaps we come home the way the earth comes home to the sun. It could be that homecoming is always a return and our understanding of home deepens with each encounter.

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

Home for me is not where I am. Home for me is a physical structure where the girl whom I love is sheltered and protected from the incoming storms of life. Home for me is not where I am safe, but where she is safe. Home for me is not where she exists, but where she lives. She is my home.

Home is an emotional state, a place in the imagination where feelings of security, belonging, placement, family, protection, memory and personal history abide. -Thomas Moore

Home is anywhere that you know all your friends and all your enemies.

Home is home.

Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

Home is not something I should have to earn.

Home isn’t four walls, it’s the people you’re with.

Home is that place where One Self feels that, that is His/Her Place.

Home is the place I can live with myself, without hating myself.

Home is the school where we learn that love shows itself in the details.

Home is what we know we ought to want but can't really take. America is not so much a home for anyone as a universal dream of home, a wish whose attraction depends upon its remaining at the level of a wish. The movies bring the boys back but stop as soon as they get them back; for home, that vaunted, all-American ideal, is a sort of death, and an oblique justification for all the wandering that kept you away from it for so long.

Home is what you take with you, not what you leave behind.

Home is wherever I'm with you. Home is where I'm alone with you.

Home is where your people are.

Homes, Gamache knew, were a self portrait. A person's choice of color, furnishing, pictures, every touch revealed the individual. God, or the devil, was in the details. And so was the human. Was it dirty, messy, obsessively clean? Were the decorations chosen to impress, or were they a hodgepodge of personal history? Was the space cluttered or clear? He felt a thrill every time he entered a home during an investigation.

Homes should mean something to us humans. They are a basic instinct. A home, with a life that centers only on food and sleep, is not really a home, it's a house. Beauty and graciousness, joy of living, being used in every part, these are the things that make a house a home. (chapter header quote from Popular Home Decorations, 1940)

Home was my mother and my sisters and my uncle, when I was a child. Now it's you and Vesper.