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When the hornet hangs in the holly hock,
And the brown bee drones i' the rose,
And read more
When the hornet hangs in the holly hock,
And the brown bee drones i' the rose,
And the west is a red-streaked four-o'clock,
And summer is near its close--
It's--Oh, for the gate, and the locust lane;
And dusk, and dew, and home again!
What if in Scotland's wilds we viel'd our head,
Where tempests whistle round the sordid bed;
Where read more
What if in Scotland's wilds we viel'd our head,
Where tempests whistle round the sordid bed;
Where the rug's two-fold use we might display,
By night a blanket, and a plaid by day.
The house is a castle which the King cannot enter.
The house is a castle which the King cannot enter.
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.
Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered read more
Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.
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.
The house of every one is to him as his castle and fortress, as
well for his defence against read more
The house of every one is to him as his castle and fortress, as
well for his defence against injury and violence, as for his
repose.
Go big or go home. Because it's true. What do you have to lose?
Go big or go home. Because it's true. What do you have to lose?
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.
