#home

Life is a race, and what matters most isn't when a person crosses the finish line, but how strong they've grown along the way. ↗

— Jen Stephens

#growth #life #race #strength #home

Dad says that everyone invented baklava.” It occurs to me now to wonder what that means. Aunt Aya rolls her eyes. “Your father? He is the worst of the worst. He thinks he cooks and eats Arabic food but these walnuts were not grown from Jordanian earth and this butter was not made from Jordanian lambs. He is eating the shadow of a memory. He cooks to remember but the more he eats, the more he forgets. ↗

— Diana Abu-Jaber

#food #home #lost #food

For we have thought the longer thoughts And gone the shorter way. And we have danced to devils' tunes, Shivering home to pray; To serve one master in the night, Another in the day. ↗

— Ernest Hemingway

#home

What you do is so loud, I can't hear what you say." Anonymous ↗

— Mike Addington

#character #honesty #truthful #wisdom #home

Every twenty minutes on the Appalachian Trail, Katz and I walked farther than the average American walks in a week. For 93 percent of all trips outside the home, for whatever distance or whatever purpose, Americans now get in a car. On average, the total walking of an American these days - that's walking of all types: from car to office, from office to car, around the supermarket and shopping malls - adds up to 1.4 miles a week...That's ridiculous. ↗

— Bill Bryson

#appalachian-trail #cars #hiking #transporation #walking

Tension fled from me. Tomorrow I would worry about Hugh d’Ambray and Andrea and Roland, but now I was simply happy. Aaahh. Home. My place, my smells, my familiar rug under my feet, my kitchen, my Curran in the kitchen chair . . . Wait a damn minute. “You! ↗

— Ilona Andrews

#humor #kate #home

Career now....Men, whenever. ↗

— Susan Mallery

#home

Jacob wrote that the true poet ‘is like a man who is happy anywhere, in endless measure, if he is allowed to look at leaves and grass, to see the sun rise and set. The false poet travels abroad in strange countries and hopes to be uplifted by the mountains of Switzerland, the sky and sea of Italy. He comes to them and is dissatisfied. He is not as happy as the man who stays at home and sees the apple trees flower in spring, and hears the small birds singing among the branches ↗

— Jacob Grimm

#home

Rumah adalah tempat di mana aku merasa bisa pulang. (Dimas Suryo) ↗

— Leila S. Chudori

#home #home

She had hit rock-bottom. She had given a blow job to a man who for all intents and purposes, was a bum. He had smelled so bad, she forced him to spray on some of the perfume she always carried in her purse. Her favorite perfume. After tonight, she was quitting. Yeah, she’d have to go back home with her two kids, grovel to her mama and work a dead-end job, but anything was better than getting down on your knees to give a guy as disgusting as Lenny a one-off. ↗

— A.T. Hicks

#humor #irony #prostitute #strip-club #home