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The whitewash'd wall, the nicely sanded floor,
The varnish'd clock that click'd behind the door;
The chest read more
The whitewash'd wall, the nicely sanded floor,
The varnish'd clock that click'd behind the door;
The chest contriv'd a double debt to pay,
A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day.
There is no place more delightful than one's own fireside.
[Lat., Nullus est locus domestica sede jucundior.]
There is no place more delightful than one's own fireside.
[Lat., Nullus est locus domestica sede jucundior.]
Construed as turf, home just seems a provisional claim, a designation you make upon a place, not one it makes read more
Construed as turf, home just seems a provisional claim, a designation you make upon a place, not one it makes on you. A certain set of buildings, a glimpsed, smudged window-view across a schoolyard, a musty aroma sniffed behind a garage when you were a child, all of which come crowding in upon your latter-day senses -- those are pungent things and vivid, even consoling. But to me they are also inert and nostalgic and unlikely to connect you to the real, to that essence art can sometimes achieve, which is permanence.
There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.
There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.
How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure!
read more
How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure!
Still to ourselves in every place consigned,
Our own felicity we make or find.
With secret course, which no loud storms annoy,
Glides the smooth current of domestic joy.
Never weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore.
Never weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore.
Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.
Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.
And the daughter of Zion is left as a cottage in a vineyard, as a
lodge in a garden read more
And the daughter of Zion is left as a cottage in a vineyard, as a
lodge in a garden of cucumbers, as a besieged city.
My house, my house, though thou art small, thou art to me the
Escuriall.
My house, my house, though thou art small, thou art to me the
Escuriall.
