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I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.
I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.
A house is a machine for living in.
A house is a machine for living in.
How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure!
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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.
Christmas... is not an external event at all, but a piece of one's home that one carries in one's heart.
Christmas... is not an external event at all, but a piece of one's home that one carries in one's heart.
The strength of a nation derives from the integrity of the home.
The strength of a nation derives from the integrity of the home.
For the whole world, without a native home,
Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
For the whole world, without a native home,
Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
The house is a castle which the King cannot enter.
The house is a castle which the King cannot enter.
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.
