Best 12501 quotes in «home quotes» category

Our every thought reflects our level of awareness, consciousness, and love for this amazing world that we call home.

Our homes travel with us. They are wherever we feel loved and accepted.

Our house was open to anyone who needed a little extra support or comfort or just a home-cooked meal.

Our stars are not where we last admired them. Our homes crumble and we don't know which place to long for.

Our herd may roam, but we all know where is home.

Our home is a belonging place.

Out ahead of them, Arkady began something very like a marching song, chanting lines answered by the other ferals, their voices ringing out across the sky, each to each. Temeraire added his own to the chorus, and little Iskierka began to scrabble at his neck, demanding, "What are they saying? What does it mean?" "We are flying home," Temeraire said, translating. "We are all flying home.

Papa taps on the skylight and I look up. He waves at me and smiles. I smile back. For now, I don't need to know what lies ahead. For now it's enough just to be here, safe aboard the Morning Star with my family and friends. For now, it's enough to be home.

[Peggotty] gave me one piece of intelligence which affected me very much, namely, that there had been a sale of the furniture at our old home, and that Mr. and Miss Murdstone were gone away, and the house was shut up, to be let or sold. I had no part in it while they remained there, but it pained me to think of the dear old place as altogether abandoned; of the weeds growing tall in the garden, and the fallen leaves lying thick and wet upon the paths. I imagined how the winds of winter would howl round it, how the cold rain would beat upon the window-glass, how the moon would make ghosts on the walls of the empty rooms, watching their solitude all night. I thought afresh of the grave in the churchyard, underneath the tree: and it seemed as if the house were dead, too [...].

Parents should also question much of the contemporary emphasis on special materials and equipment for learning in a child's environment. A clutter of toys can be more confusing than satisfying to a child. On the other hand, natural situations, with opportunieties to explore, seldom overstimulate or trouble a small child. Furthermore, most children will find greater satisfaction and demonsstrate greater learning from things they make and do with their parents or other people than from elaborate toys or learning materials. And there is no substitute for solitude - in the sandpile, mud puddle, or play area - for a yound child to work out his own fantasies. Yet this privilege is often denied in our anxiety to institutionalize children.

People like my grandmother, who have no home but in memory, learn to be very skilled in the art of recollection.

Peace and gladness in every home is a peace for the society, nation and the world.

Perhaps home, like the moon, will follow wherever she goes.

People would rather live in homes regardless of its grayness. There is no place like home.

Photos sat on the piano and shelves bulged with books, testament to a life well lived.

Places ain't home. People is. Bricks and chairs is nothing.

Places, like people, are complex, and loving them isn't simple.

Places are supposed to look smaller when you go back to them, but my road just looked schizoid. A couple of the houses had had nifty little makeovers involving double glazing and amusing faux-antique pastel paint; most of them hadn't. Number 16 looked like it was on its last legs: the roof was in tatters, there was a pile of bricks and a dead wheelbarrow by the front steps, and at some point in the last twenty years someone had set the door on fire. In Number 8, a window on the first floor was lit up, gold and cozy and dangerous as hell.

Plants are also integral to reweaving the connection between land and people. A place becomes a home when it sustains you, when it feeds you in body as well as spirit. To recreate a home, the plants must also return.

Please come home. Into your own body, your own vessel, your own earth.

Poetry became the home I couldn't leave. Or, didn't want to.

Probably the people on the street know better than the people at home.

People who stay away from home are always going home for the holidays. People who stay at home are always going away from home for the holidays.

Perhaps 'home' can be where one comes from, as well as where one lives.

Ready am I to go, and my eagerness with sails full set awaits the wind. Only another breath will I breathe in this still air, only another loving look cast backward,

Really?" [Catarina] said when he opened the door. " Two years and then you come back and don't even call for two weeks? And then it's 'Come over, I need you'? You didn't even tell me you were home, Magnus." "I'm home", he said, giving what he considered to be his most winning smile. The smiling took a bit of effort, but hopefully it looked genuine. "Don't even try that face with me. I am not one of your conquests, Magnus. I am your friend. We are supposed to get pizza, not do the nasty." "The nasty? But I-" "Don't." She held up a warning finger. "I mean it. I almost didn't come. But you sounded so pathetic on the phone I had to.

Regardless the destination, all roads lead home.

Querer a alguien es como mudarse a una casa —solía decir Sonja—. Al principio nos encanta la novedad, nos asombra a diario el hecho de que sea nuestro todo aquello, como si temiéramos que alguien pudiera entrar de pronto y avisarnos de que se ha cometido un grave error y que de ninguna manera podemos quedarnos a vivir en un sitio tan bonito. Pero a medida que pasan los años, se deteriora la fachada, la madera se resquebraja aquí y allá, y uno empieza a tenerle cariño a la casa no por su perfección, sino por todas las imperfecciones. Aprendemos a conocer sus ángulos y rincones. Cómo evitar que la llave se quede encajada en la cerradura cuando hace mucho frío. Qué listones del suelo son los que ceden bajo nuestro peso al pisarlos y el modo exacto en que hay que abrir las puertas del armario para que no crujan. Y son todos esos pequeños secretos los que la hacen tuya.

Purchasing a large and expensive home during a real estate boom turned into the biggest financial mistake that I ever made.

Relax in your own home, Kylie. It's one of the few places on earth you're free to be as you really are.

Ritual Version —for Kate Middleton humself, shamself, hymnself, shameself—. lameself, lambself, numbself, unself—. sing anger, goddess, of—. many devices—. sing anger godless—. tell me who—. sacred in the sea suffered so many woes—. bookshelf, doubtshelf, debtshelf, riftshelf—. driftshelf, truthshelf, foolshelf, rueshelf—. sing less the many souls sent—. they perished—. sing spoils for the dogs—. who swallowed down the foolish song—. the soul and its companions—. nounself, nonceself, nonself, lashself—. ashself, lawself, thoughtself, aughtself—. tell me, muse, from any point—. and birds—. sing less the wrath of—. a man’s cleverness—. tell also us—. of recklessness—. of home—.

Rose was the one who knew the path, but these were the things Rose knew, and I wondered if maybe it was this knowing the back of things, the shortcuts, the forgotten stories, that gives you the right to call a place home.

Romance is about putting things aright after some tragedy has put them asunder. It is about restoration of the right relations among things — and going home is where that restoration occurs because that is where it matters most.

Rootlessness," I opine, "is the twenty-first century norm." "You're not wrong and that's why we're in the shit we're in, mate. If you belong nowhere, why give a tinker's toss about anywhere?

Sabotage isolated them from their home, thwarting any hope of outside help. Frantic, unreliable sightings of frightening things – horrible things - led to chaos. The crew, terrified, opted to die fighting and went hunting for their attacker. Kaine’s only regret was that they found it. It killed them all. Systematically.

Roy Dale suspected that Mississippi was beautiful. He wasn't sure. He didn't have anything to compare it to. He hadn't even ever been out of the Delta.

Rumah adalah tempat di mana aku merasa bisa pulang. (Dimas Suryo)

Satyrs aren't dryads, but we have roots, too. Camp Half Blood is mine.

Sara knew that behind its locked front door no home was routine. Not the house of her childhood, not the apartment of her husband's. not the world they were building together with Willow and Patrick. All households had their mysteries, their particular forms of dysfunction.

Sam scanned the orchards. U-Pickers laughed and posed for photos with apples on their heads, babies in the baskets, hugging trees. She lifted her head to study the sky, blue as her eyes. The clouds moved across the sun, blocking it out for long distances at a time, causing the landscape in front of her to become illuminated one patchwork piece at a time: the rolling hills lined with grass and endless rows of trees, peach, tart cherry, apples of every variety; blueberry bushes sitting at the bottom of the hill where the rain pooled; the old red barn where high school kids doled out baskets for fruit, which Sam's father weighed when they returned; the old shed where more high schoolers handed out free donut samples and sips of apple cider to arriving cars; the farmhouse with shutters- designed with apple cutouts- where her grandparents, Willo and Gordon, lived; the blue-green waters of Suttons Bay stretching out beyond the trees, the Old Mission Peninsula jutting into it; the family cornfields that sat across M-22 and would soon be cut into an intricate corn maze filled with spooks and goblins to scare fall visitors. This slice of northern Michigan was Sam's home, her whole world.

School taught me how to do language, maths and science; it failed to teach me the very basics of how to keep my home healthy.

Sentiment has never been unpopular except with a few sick persons who are made sicker by the sight of a child, a glimpse of a wedding, or the thought of a happy home.

She always said, 'When I'm home, I've got to get things done, even if there are visitors. Elizabeth knows how to relax in her own house.' And then she would shake her head, as if Elizabeth had remarkable powers.

she believed in the stars to guide her home but to the moon's glow she lost her way.

She could have lived in comfort, but I doubt if it occurred to her to try.

She clutched onto Lance just a little tighter, and the idea of home seemed like just a distant, foreign concept. Suddenly, she didn't care if she ever made it back.

She considered what had made Denmark home to her anyway. Was it the sense of familiarity? That wherever she went there were echoes of a hundred memories she could pluck from her thoughts?

She did not know where her home was anymore, and this idea didn’t frighten her like it should. - Bohemian Grove

She had the feeling that if she went home, she might never get away. She thought of birds caught in nets. There was something inside her, beating against her ribs, urging her to do things she might not otherwise attempt. She had the strongest desire to get lost.

She lit wildfires inside my soul and fanned them with hurricanes.