Best 12501 quotes in «home quotes» category

Corus lay on the southern bank of the Oloron River, towers glinting in the sun. The homes of wealthy men lined the river to the north; tanners, smiths, wainwrights, carpenters, and the poor clustered on the bank to the south. The city was a richly colored tapestry: the Great Gate on Kings-bridge, the maze of the Lower City, the marketplace, the tall houses in the Merchants' and the Gentry's quarters, the gardens of the Temple district, the palace. This last was the city's crown and southern border. Beyond it, the royal forest stretched for leagues. It was not as lovely as Berat nor as colorful as Udayapur, but it was Alanna's place.

Craft makes our homes more human. -Ilsa Crawford

Cuando estamos lejos de la patria nunca la recordamos en sus inviernos. La distancia borra las penas del invierno, las poblaciones desamparadas, los niños descalzos en el frío. El arte del recuerdo sólo nos trae campiñas verdes, flores amarillas y rojas, el cielo azulado del himno nacional.

Cut out some of your “important social engagements,” and make your home the center of your social life. God will honor you, and your children will grow up to call you “blessed” [Proverbs 31:28].

Cutting my roots and leaving my home and family when I was 18 years old forced me to build my home in other things, like my music, stories and my journey. The last years I have more or less constantly been on my way, on the road, always leaving and never arriving, which also means leaving people. I’ve loved and lost and I have regrets and I miss and no matter how many times you leave, start over, achieve success or travel places it’s other people that matter. People, friends, family, lovers, strangers – they will forever stay with you, even if only through memory. I’ve grown to appreciate people to the deepest core and I’m trying to learn how to tell people what I want to tell them when I have the chance, before it’s too late. …

Dacă în tine dăinuie chipul unei iubite, pictat în inimă, îți este casă întreaga lume.

Dad thinks I'm ready to fly around the country as the Ambassador of Hope, but Mom thinks I'm a frail little bird with broken wings.

Darling, in LA, you decide who you are. Every neighborhood has its own culture and population. Once you find the right one for you, you're home. Los Angeles is a way of life.

Darling, I'm sorry but, I’m going back to home. To myself! I realized, Home is not the place I live in, It is not where you are, It is not somewhere in the world Waiting for me to arrive but, Home is wherever I am, Home is within me. It’s just been a really long time, I’m going back to home. To myself!

Dat deze plek van ons is en blijft. Een plek met niets, met alles.

Dear little house that I have lived in, there is happiness you have seen, even before I was born. In you is my life, and all the people I have loved are a part of you, so to go out of you, and leave you, is to leave myself.

Dejar la tierra. La tierra de uno. Los árboles y avenidas. El olor del cardamomo y los keftes de espinada. Los sonidos de la infancia que todavía se alojan debajo de la cama y en algunas esquinas; los rincones consentidos de casa. La alberca en la que aprendí a nadar. La reja que imaginó mi primer beso. Las calles de mi barrio, tan bien trazadas.

Der kom en vederkvægende ro, en dyb fred og fryd over mig, det var som når en feber ophører. "Her," tænkte jeg, "kan jeg blive.

DETOX your mind, body, AND your contact list.

Detroit is big enough to matter in the world and small enough for you to matter in it.

Diana frowns. “You’re taking me home, right? You just said you would.” “Hoink hoink! Of course, piglet. But I meant your real home.” “Which, last I checked,” says Diana acidly, “is in Los Angeles, California, United States of America, solar system, planet Earth.” “Hmm,” says the boar, hiccupping dreamily. “That’s what you think, darling. Tell me, can you say you’ve felt really at home at that address? Haven’t you been homesick your whole life?

Did all the answers lie beyond the open door? Is the future beyond the open door? For after all, why could this not become, in spite of everything, a mere chapter of her life, marked off and seldom reread, once she had returned to the outside world where she had been kept all these years, quite beyond the spells and enchantments that were now claiming her? Oh, but it wasn't going to be. Because when you fell prey to a spell this strong, you were never the same.

Did you see Grace is back with us?" Megan did see me. She saw me jump off a cliff and crawl under an Iranian fence. Megan has seen plenty. And I can't help but hold my breath, waiting on her answer. "Hi," Megan says, turning to me. "Welcome home." Home. The word hits me. I've spent all my life thinking that I didn't have one, but now that I'm back I can't deny that I've spent more my life on Embassy Row than in any other place-that maybe it just wasn't my mother's childhood home. In a way, it's mine, too.

Dig Deep! When the task at hand seems to be very difficult. Dig Deep! Whenever you feel you're drifting away from your intended course. Dig Deep! When others doubt you and say it can't be done. Dig Deep! Whenever you feel like giving up. Dig Deep! When life throws you a curve ball. If you quit, you'll never hit that homerun

Doesn't matter where you go, home is uphill

Does your home make you happy? This place, this sanctuary, that we call home should be a place that makes us feel joyful, safe, and at peace. Let your home be a place of beauty. Let it be that your home never makes you feel trapped, stressed, or drained. Having a place of sanctuary is very important for the mental well-being. No matter what happens in the outside world there needs to always be a place for you to balance out and recharge. Let your home be a sanctuary that gives you peace.

Do it double, because some can't do it at all.

Dom nije mjesto - to je stanje svijesti.

Don't know. Don't care. I'm hopping on a bus and going until I can't go any farther. Until I find a place that feels like home.' He's quiet for a long time. 'How will you know what home feels like?' It hangs in the air between us, as frozen as our breaths. I don't have an answer.

Don't ask from where I have come, My home is far, far away

Don't compare the size of your roof with the size of the sky.

Don’t forget that the land is always out there, making its way, doing everything it can so you can breathe fresh air; so you can eat fresh food; so you can move and see and feel and think, and it’s on your side. The world is out there doing what it’s been doing way before you came here, it’s firm and strong and it takes a lot to bring it down. so from time to time, just go outside and look at this spectacle. This pure painting right in front of your eyes. No one created it. No one owns it. It doesn’t want anything. It doesn’t need to prove anything to anyone. It simply is. So maybe, try a little tenderness. Just give it a chance to do what it can do. Just let it help you breathe and eat and move and see and maybe just try to live your life in a way that doesn’t kill this force of nature that is just trying to give you a world worth living in. A clean world. A fresh world. Paths, forests, oceans, animals, oxygen, water. That’s all it takes. Just try a little tenderness towards this world we’ve been lucky enough to build our homes on. If you take care of it, it will take care of you.

Don't make homes out of hollow hero's that don't know how to save themselves.

Don’t sell based on inventory. Inventory based on who you want to sell. A lot of people sell homes. They all have structure. Location, size, style, function, benefit, community, who stays (and leaves)...totally different. You can sell or do anything at a premium. It may be a home, but the type of clientele you work with is a choice. Don’t sell based on inventory. Inventory based on who you want to sell. Go to work.

Dov’è che ti senti a casa?» domandò Peri. «A casa?» Shirin fece una smorfia sprezzante. «Ti svelo una regola universale: casa è dove sta tua nonna.

Doors opened everywhere. Maybe one day, the children of this world who had gone to that world to save themselves would see a door that didn't fit right with the walls around it, something with a doorknob made of a moon, or a knocker that winked. Maybe they could still go home,

Dorrie gave Larry's hand an excited, distracted squeeze that said: almost home. They were about to be matter-of-factly claimed by familiar streets and houses and the life they'd chosen or which had chosen them.

Do we take less pride in the possession of our home because its walls were built by some unknown carpenter, its tapestries woven by some unknown weaver on a far Oriental shore, in some antique time? No. We show our home to our friends with the pride as if it were our home, which it is. Why then should we take less pride when reading a book written by some long-dead author? Is it not our book just as much, or even more so, than theirs? So the landowner says, ‘Look at my beautiful home! Isn’t it fine?’ And not, ‘Look at the home so-and-so has built.’ Thus we shouldn’t cry, ‘Look what so-and-so has written. What a genius so-and-so is!’ But rather, ‘Look at what I have read! Am I not a genius? Have I not invented these pages? The walls of this universe, did I not build? The souls of these characters, did I not weave?

Do you know what the luckiest thing is?’ ‘No.’ ‘It is to be at home everywhere.

Do you miss home? Awa asked. “Home is where you find comfort” John replied.

Do you need anything?" she asks. A mom A dad. Someone. Anyone. Can you arrange for that? "Nah, I'm good.

Do you think there is heaven or hell? he signed. ‘I don’t know. Not in the Christian way, if that’s what you mean. I think people have a right to believe in whatever they want. I just don’t.’… If someone came in here and gave you positive proof, would you do anything different? She shook her head. ‘I think it’s just as likely that someone could say that this place, right here, is heaven, hell and earth all at the same time. And we still wouldn’t know what to do differently. Everyone just muddles through, trying not to make too many mistakes.

Drop by drop I will fall On your body and soul And find a home in you!

Each second of my four years, two months, and seven days in the attic dragged on forever, and nothing ever changed. But outside the attic, everything changed, and so violently fast. Destruction and devastation for all of us, whether we were in the attic or out.

Each step I take toward him is one more step closer to home.

Each way of being is more valued in the presence of the other. This balance between making camp and following the seasons is both very ancient and very new. We all need both.

Even the worst things about Devonairre Street are better than the rest of the city.

Euer Haus ist euer größerer Körper.

Early one beautiful summer evening, when everyone else was drinking indoors, Tony and I walked down to the river. We lay on the grass under a tree and chatted. At one point, Tony said, "Look at the pattern of lace the leaves make against the sky." I looked at the canopy above us, and suddenly saw what he saw. My perspective completely shifted. I realized I didn't have his "eyes" -- though once he pointed it out, it became obvious. It made me think, "My God, I never look enough," and in the years since, I've tried very hard to look -- and look again.

Even places you know well can take on a touch of the unknown when you arrive there from a different direction.

Eventually we all must return home.

Everybody is saying: - Stay home and study and study (Repeat learn and repeat...) and don't go out...

Every corner and room of a house will carry memories, make these the most pleasurable times you shared with your family.

Everybody's got a true home—maybe not where they're living, but where their heart lives.

Everyday I reach to a place where there is my name on the door. It's been a while, didn't reach my home.