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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.
To make a happy fireside clime
To weans and wife,
That's the true pathos and sublime
read more
To make a happy fireside clime
To weans and wife,
That's the true pathos and sublime
Of human life.
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.
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.
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.
What's the good of a home if you are never in it?
What's the good of a home if you are never in it?
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.
I've read in many a novel, that unless they've souls that
grovel--
Folks prefer in fact a hovel read more
I've read in many a novel, that unless they've souls that
grovel--
Folks prefer in fact a hovel to your dreary marble halls.
