Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.
Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.
Where thou art, that is home.
Every house where love abides And friendship is a guest, Is surely home, and home sweet home For there the heart can rest.
Home, the spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.
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.
The fellow that owns his own home is always just coming out of a hardware store.
A house that does not have one warm, comfy chair in it is soulless.
Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one.
God is at home, it's we who have gone out for a walk.
You never know what events are going to transpire to get you home.
The home to everyone is to him his castle and fortress, as well for his defence against injury and violence, as for his repose.
One's home is like a delicious piece of pie you order in a restaurant on a country road one cozy evening - the best piece of pie you have ever eaten in your life - and can never find again. After you leave home, you may find yourself feeling homesick, even if you have a new home that has nicer wallpaper and a more efficient dishwasher than the home in which you grew up.
When I was a child in the 1940s and early 1950s, my parents and grandparents spoke of Britain as home, and New Zealand had this strong sense of identity and coherence as being part of the commonwealth and a the identity of its people as being British.
In New York, after that famous home run, they expected me to be up there every year. That homer raised me to a high level, with the top guys in the game.
The biggest hurdle to writing Fargo Rock City was that I couldn't afford a home computer - I had to get a new job so I could buy a computer. It could all change though. In five years, I could be back at some daily newspaper, which wouldn't be so bad.
Back then, we could drive a mile from home and there was nothing. Now it's grown in every direction and is populated and modernized. I guess I have mixed feelings about it, but I'm not someone that thinks everything should stop growing.
I have to tell you that June Cleaver had a job in 'The New Leave It to Beaver.' She did. Sure, she was a council woman. She went to work. She wasn't a sit-at-home grandma. She went out, got a job.
But a lot of my training can be done in Aston - a lot of the hard work, so to speak. But a new atmosphere, a new place, and it's good for me because I didn't want to get stuck in one spot, so coming home is good, back and forth, you know, where my roots are.
How good is God! How sweet his yoke!
or simply:
