Truth seldom finds a home.
There's no place like home...
An Englishman's home is his castle.
Home is where you feel at home and are treated well.
Toronto is home; nothing beats home.
God is in the details.
He who is a Basque, a good Christian and has two mules, needs nothing more.
Home. One place is just like another, really. Maybe not. But truth is it's all just rock and dirt and people are roughly the same. I was born up there but I'm no stranger here. Have always felt at home everywhere, even in Virginia, where they hate me...
Who you are and what you believe in is your real home, the only home no one can take from you, the only home that will last.
..home INSIDE is home shining brightly above all homes in physical world.
Up to four chauffeurs, two secretaries, two personal maids, and a masseur traveled with her to each home
everyone thinks that other places is more fun than staying at home, but at the end.. you will be coming home, because.. that's where you belong to..
Sitting down at the table is a sacred event. It's the heart of the home. People have ginormous homes or crappy little homes, but the kitchen is where we always end up sitting. It's where the stories happen, the family happens.
Many people keep photos in their homes, in their office, or in their wallet, and happy families tend to display large numbers of photos at home. In 'Happier at Home,' I write about my 'shrine to my family' made of photographs.
I missed my home - like the physicality of my home, I missed my friends and my family mostly and just hanging out and being in your home country - culturally it feels right and that is what I miss.
I don't attend parties. After the day's shoot, I go home and spend time with my family. I never take my work home, and neither do I involve my family in work.
England is my home. London is my home. New York feels like, if I have to spend a year living in an unfamiliar city, this is a pretty lovely one to spend a year in, but I will be going home at the end of it, certainly.
My daughter is a freshman in college and my son is - well, our daughter and our son - is a sophomore in college. So they come home on selected weekends, they come home on vacations and they're home in the summer, although they have jobs.
Six hours a day I lived under school discipline in active intercourse with people none of whom were known to those at home, and the other hours of the twenty-four I spent at home, or with relatives of the people at home, none of whom were known to an...
If you factor in not just who's doing what at home, but how much more time working fathers are spending on work outside the home, on average they spend two hours more per day outside the home.
But even though all this was going on at home, if someone had tried to take me away and put me in a children's home, I couldn't have handled it. Even though my mother was very brutal, it was my home.
