Home Quotes - Page 15

• This was long before the term 'single-parent family' came into use; back then it was a 'broken home'.

  Julian Barnes

  Long, Broken, Parent

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• Our power knows no limits, yet we cannot find food for a starving child, or a home for a refugee. Our knowledge is without measure and we build the weapons that will destroy us. We live on the edge of ourselves, terrified of the darkness within. We have harmed, corrupted and ruined, we have made mistakes and deceived.

  John le Carre

  Children, Mistake, Darkness Within

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• Yes,” I told him. “I think the guy playing the Pirate King was awesome.” He stopped where he was. “What?” I asked, frowning at the big smile on his face. “I didn’t say I liked the Pirate King,” he told me. “Oh.” I closed my eyes—and there he was. A warm, edgy presence right on the edge of my perception. When I opened my eyes, he was standing right in front of me. “Cool,” I told him. “You’re back.” He kissed me leisurely. When he was finished, I was more than ready to head home. Fast. “You make me laugh,” he told me seriously.

  Patricia Briggs

  Kings, Eye, Thinking

  Patricia Briggs (2009). “Bone Crossed”, p.211, Penguin

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• The enemy? His sense of duty was no less than yours, I deem. You wonder what his name is, where he came from. And if he was really evil at heart. What lies or threats led him on this long march from home. If he would not rather have stayed there in peace. War will make corpses of us all.

  J. R. R. Tolkien

  Lying, War, Heart

  "Fictional character: Faramir". "The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers", 2002.

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• You know what I do? I listen to other people, stumbling about with their half thoughts and half sentences and their clumsy feelings that they can't express, and it hurts me. So I go home and burnish it and polish it and weld it to a rhythmic frame, make the dull colors gleam, mute the garish artificiality to pastels, so it doesn't hurt any more: that's my poem. I know what they want to say, and I say it for them.

  Samuel R. Delany

  Hurt, Color, People

  Samuel R. Delany (1969). “Babel-17”, Macmillan Reference USA

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• But tonight, because Rome had fallen and Felix was dead, because of Valerius’s shame, the empty hut seemed horribly lonely, and there was a small aching need in him for somebody to notice, even if they were not glad, that he had come home.

  Rosemary Sutcliff

  Lonely, Rome, Needs

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• Oh, I can't describe my home. It is home, and I can't put its charm into words

  Elizabeth Gaskell

  Charm, I Can

  Elizabeth Gaskell (2010). “The Complete Works of Elizabeth Gaskell (20+ Books)”, p.1365, BookCaps Study Guides

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• I wonder if ever again Americans can have that experience of returning to a home place so intimately known, profoundly felt, deeply loved, and absolutely submitted to? It is not quite true that you can't go home again. I have done it, coming back here. But it gets less likely. We have had too many divorces, we have consumed too much transportation, we have lived too shallowly in too many places.

  Wallace Stegner

  Divorce, Done, Too Much

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• I wonder if it will be—can be—any more beautiful than this,’ murmured Anne, looking around her with the loving, enraptured eyes of those to whom ‘home’ must always be the loveliest spot in the world, no matter what fairer lands may lie under alien stars.

  Lucy Maud Montgomery

  Beautiful, Stars, Lying

  Lucy Maud Montgomery (2013). “The Anne of Green Gables Chronicles (Annotated Edition)”, p.524, Jazzybee Verlag

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• Home is where the heart is or where you bury the ones you want to eat later.

  Rob Thurman

  Heart, Want, Home Is Where The Heart Is

  Rob Thurman (2012). “Doubletake: A Cal Leandros Novel”, p.173, Penguin

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• Rain Soft rain, summer rain Whispers from bushes, whispers from trees. Oh, how lovely and full of blessing To dream and be satisfied. I was so long in the outer brightness, I am not used to this upheaval: Being at home in my own soul, Never to be led elsewhere. I want nothing, I long for nothing, I hum gently the sounds of childhood, And I reach home astounded In the warm beauty of dreams. Heart, how torn you are, How blessed to plow down blindly, To think nothing, to know nothing, Only to breathe, only to feel.

  Hermann Hesse

  Summer, Dream, Blessed

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• What you have to understand, is your father was your model for God. If you're male and you're Christian and living in America, your father is your model for God. And if you never know your father, if your father bails out or dies or is never at home, what do you believe about God? What you end up doing is you spend your life searching for a father and God. What you have to consider is the possibility that God doesn't like you. Could be, God hates us. This is not the worst thing that can happen.

  Chuck Palahniuk

  Christian, Father, Hate

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• Tom Dancer’s gift of a whitebark pine cone You never know What opportunity Is going to travel to you, Or through you. Once a friend gave me A small pine cone- One of a few He found in the scat Of a grizzly In Utah maybe, Or Wyoming. I took it home And did what I supposed He was sure I would do- I ate it, Thinking How it had traveled Through that rough And holy body. It was crisp and sweet. It was almost a prayer Without words. My gratitude, Tom Dancer, For this gift of the world I adore so much And want to belong to. And thank you too, great bear

  Mary Oliver

  Gratitude, Sweet, Prayer

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• Do it. Before they send those mutts back or something. I don't want to die like Cato," he says. “Then you shoot me," I say furiously, shoving the weapons back at him. "You shoot me and go home and live with it!" And as I say it, I know death right here, right now would be the easier of the two.

  Suzanne Collins

  Two, Mutts, Would Be

  Suzanne Collins (2011). “The Hunger Games Trilogy”, p.446, Scholastic Inc.

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• The realization that I’d have nothing to take home had finally sunk in. My knees buckled and I slid down the tree trunk to its roots. It was too much. I was too sick and weak and tired, oh, so tired. Let them call the Peacekeepers and take us to the community home, I thought. Or better yet, let me die right here in the rain.

  Suzanne Collins

  Rain, Tired, Roots

  Suzanne Collins (2011). “The Hunger Games Trilogy”, p.43, Scholastic Inc.

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• Peeta crouches down on the other side of her and strokes her hair. When he begins to speak in a soft voice, it seems almost nonsensical, but the words aren’t for me. “With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby’s skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water.

  Suzanne Collins

  Baby, Spring, Color

  Suzanne Collins (2010). “Catching Fire (The Second Book of the Hunger Games)”, p.312, Scholastic Inc.

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• I'm coming for you. I'm coming home, I'm coming to clean

  Hugh Howey

  Coming Home, Clean

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• The child in each of us Knows paradise. Paradise is home. Home as it was Or home as it should have been. Paradise is one's own place, One's own people, One's own world, Knowing and known, Perhaps even Loving and loved. Yet every child Is cast from paradise- Into growth and new community, Into vast, ongoing Change.

  Octavia Butler

  Children, Should Have, Knowing

  Octavia E. Butler (2012). “Parable of the Talents”, p.130, Open Road Media

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• Vee: And I'm not going to let you sit at home all afternoon with your sour face on. Nora: I don't have a sour face. Vee: Yes, you do. And you're wearing it right now. Nora: This is my annoyed face. You woke me up at six in the morning!

  Becca Fitzpatrick

  Morning, Annoyed, Afternoon

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• He found a stuffed animal, a fluffy wolf with bright blue eyes, and was immediately drawn to it. "I want to get this for her. It is telling me it needs to go home with us." Francesca laughed at him.

  Christine Feehan

  Eye, Animal, Blue

  Christine Feehan (2011). “Dark Legend: Number 8 in series”, p.59, Hachette UK

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• Man, life was complicated. But the truth was simple. He was her home. He was where she belonged.

  J.R. Ward

  Simple, Men, Complicated

  J.R. Ward (2012). “Lover Reborn: A Novel of the Black Dagger Brotherhood”, p.501, Penguin

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• End of the day, the quick and the dead are the same. Everyone's just looking for home.

  J.R. Ward

  "Lover Reborn: A Novel of the Black Dagger Brotherhood".

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• Maybe that's what growing up means, in the end - you go far enough in the direction of - somewhere - and you realise that you've neutered the capacity of the term home to mean anything. [...] We don't get an endless number of orbits away from the place where meaning first arises, that treasure-house of first experiences. What we learn, instead, is that our adventures secure us in our isolation. Experience revokes our licence to return to simpler times. Sooner or later, there's no place remotely like home.

  Gregory Maguire

  Growing Up, Adventure, Mean

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• I would always wait to take you home.

  David Levithan

  Waiting

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• The setting sun burned the sky pink and orange in the same bright hues as surfers' bathing suits. It was beautiful deception, Bosch thought, as he drove north on the Hollywood Freeway to home. Sunsets did that here. Made you forget it was the smog that made their colors so brilliant, that behind every pretty picture there could be an ugly story.

  Michael Connelly

  Beautiful, Sunset, Color

  Michael Connelly (2012). “The Black Echo”, p.60, Hachette UK

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