#home

No one has really seen me in years.” Blake looked at the sky. “Sometimes I wonder how they know I don’t have a home. I try to dress decently.” He waved a hand at his jeans and army jacket. “I think it just seeps out of me. I’m not the same as everyone else.” He shook his head, pulling himself out of his despair, and looked at Livia again. “But when you saw me for the first time, you actually saw me. You saw me, and then you smiled like I was just the same as everyone else on that platform. ↗

— Debra Anastasia

#love #poughkeepsie #love

I know it doesn’t make noise,” he explained. “Going through the motions is comforting to me. I wish I had a real piano.” The wistfulness in his tone was aching to hear. “Did it used to have keys on it?” Livia asked. “I did draw them once, but it was in pencil. No matter. My heart knows right where they are.” He watched her as he tickled the pretend keys again. ↗

— Debra Anastasia

#love #poughkeepsie #love

I pause in my movements and feel extremely sad, I am heading to Sara’s because I no longer have a home, because home is where the heart is and I am not sure where my heart is any more. ↗

— Lindsey Shipley from What I thought was the End

#lost-love #love

Sometimes John had recorded new compositions, or lines from his new poems. Sometimes he'd just record a busy night in The Green Man. Sometimes sheep, seals, skylarks, the wind turbine. If Liam were home there would be some Liam. The summer fair. The Fastnet Race. I would unfold my map of Clear Island. Those tapes prised the lid off homesickness and rattled out the contents, but always at the bottom was solace. ↗

— David Mitchell

#homesickness #solace #business

The mission sat in a converted store front on the corner of a medium-busy street. There was a small crowd gathered in front - no real surprise, since they gave out food and clothing, all all you had to do was spend a few moments of your life listening to the good reverend explain why you were going to Hell. It seemed like a pretty good bargain, even to me, but I wasn't hungry. ↗

— Jeff Lindsay

#christianity #homeless #mission #business

Genius is an exceedingly common human quality, probably natural to most of us. ↗

— John Taylor Gatto

#homeschool #homeschooling #learning #education

Home is people. Not a place. If you go back there after the people are gone, then all you can see is what is not there any more. ↗

— Robin Hobb

#home #family

Please don't humiliate me by killing yourself before we can save your life. ↗

— Kristin Hannah

#medical #home

There must be some kind of internal time distortion effect in here, because when I look at myself in the little mirror above my sink, what I see is my father's face, my face turning into his. I am beginning to feel how the man looked, especially how he looked on those nights he came home so tired he couldn't even make it through dinner without nodding off, sitting there with his bowl of soup cooling in front of him, a rich pork-and-winter-melon-saturated broth that, moment by moment, was losing - or giving up - its tiny quantum of heat into the vast average temperature of the universe. ↗

— Charles Yu

#mirror #quantum-of-heat #soup #tiredness #home

When I got to the States and started going to an American high school, which I did for an extremely short time, I thought everyone around me was insane, the way they talked about their parents. I thought the parents were insane too, the way they handled their kids, like every request they made was a bargain they weren't sure would be kept. That little whiny tone at the end of every statement: "Be home by ten, okay? ↗

— Michael Gruber

#home