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If I were asked to name the chief benefit of the house, I should say: the house shelters day-dreaming, the read more
If I were asked to name the chief benefit of the house, I should say: the house shelters day-dreaming, the house protects the dreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace.
At length his lonely cot appears in view,
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;
Th' expectant read more
At length his lonely cot appears in view,
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;
Th' expectant wee-things, toddling, stacher thro'
To meet their Dad, wi' flichterin noise an' glee.
There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.
There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.
What the Nation must realize is that the home, when both parents work, is non-existent. Once we have honestly faced read more
What the Nation must realize is that the home, when both parents work, is non-existent. Once we have honestly faced that fact, we must act accordingly.
Estate agents. You can't live with them, you can't live with them. The first sign of these nasty purulent sores read more
Estate agents. You can't live with them, you can't live with them. The first sign of these nasty purulent sores appeared round about 1894. With their jangling keys, nasty suits, revolting beards, moustaches and tinted spectacles, estate agents roam the land causing perturbation and despair. If you try and kill them, you're put in prison: if you try and talk to them, you vomit. There's only one thing worse than an estate agent but at least that can be safely lanced, drained and surgically dressed. Estate agents. Love them or loathe them, you'd be mad not to loathe them.
The house a woman creates is a Utopia. She can't help it -- can't help trying to interest her nearest read more
The house a woman creates is a Utopia. She can't help it -- can't help trying to interest her nearest and dearest not in happiness itself but in the search for it.
The house is a castle which the King cannot enter.
The house is a castle which the King cannot enter.
At night returning, every labour sped,
He sits him down, the monarch of a shed;
Smiles by read more
At night returning, every labour sped,
He sits him down, the monarch of a shed;
Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round surveys
His children's looks, that brighten at the blaze;
While his lov'd partner, boastful of her hoard,
Displays her cleanly platter on the board.
A house that does not have one warm, comfy chair in it is soulless.
A house that does not have one warm, comfy chair in it is soulless.