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.]

I am far frae my hame, an' i'm weary aften whiles,
For the longed-for hame-bringing an' my Father's welcome read more

I am far frae my hame, an' i'm weary aften whiles,
For the longed-for hame-bringing an' my Father's welcome smiles.

A house is made of walls and beams; a home is built with love and dreams.

A house is made of walls and beams; a home is built with love and dreams.

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.

"Home" is any four walls that enclose the right person.

"Home" is any four walls that enclose the right person.

There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.

There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.

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.

Home is home, though it be never so homely.

Home is home, though it be never so homely.

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.