#home

In the poetry of arrival, the garage door is free verse; the front door can be anything from a rhyming couplet to a sonnet. ↗

— Akiko Busch

#home

A couple months after school started that year, I just plain stopped going to see the Maje. I remember coming home one day and checking the answering machine in my bedroom. The first message was from the Maje. He was waiting for me to come over. He sounded feeble and desperate: "Steve, where are you? I need you? Are you coming? Please . . ." I deleted it. The next message was also from the Maje and said pretty much the same thing. Delete. There must have been a dozen messages on that machine from the Maje, all begging me, pleading with me, to come help him. I deleted every single one of them. To this day, I have no idea what happened to the Maje, no idea if he ever got that cataract surgery. That's how our relationship ended. It still makes me feel horrible to think about now: I just deleted the Maje. ↗

— Stephen "Steve-O" Glover

#home

Have you at any time been detained in a mental home or similar institution? If so, give particulars.' 'I was at Scone College, Oxford, for two years,' said Paul. ↗

— Evelyn Waugh

#oxford #home

On the way home I absently minded (you know what I mean) went through a stop sign in Hyannis so of course there was a police car to apprehend me. A soft answer turnethed away wrath, fortunately. ↗

— Edward Gorey

#kindness #speeding #home

Idleness is a constant sin, and labor is a duty. Idleness is the devil's home for temptation and for unprofitable, distracting musings; while labor profit others and ourselves. ↗

— Anne Baxter

#devil #distracting #duty #home #idleness

A white lie is not a lie at all. It is where you tell the truth but you do not tell all of the truth. This means that everything you say is a white lie because when someone says, for example, "What do you want to do today?" you say, "I want to do painting with Mrs. Peters," but you don't say, "I want to have my lunch and I want to go to the toilet and I want to go home after school and I want to play with Toby and I want to have my supper ↗

— Mark Haddon

#home

You're not driving home if it's late, though. I am accustomed to dropping my women off at their door," he snickered because he knew she'd blush and he wanted her to, "and sometimes I put them to bed. ↗

— S.W. Frank

#mafia #home

After all, your head only had so much room in it. No surprise if it overflowed once in a while with little bits of sparkle and electrical fizz. ↗

— Jean Thompson

#home

I figure when my husband comes home from work, if the kids are still alive, then I've done my job. ↗

— Roseanne Barr

#parenting #home

You are at my side, dear friends, and God is everywhere. Yet ultimately we are alone, making our way home by the candle of the heart. The light is steady and sure but extends only far enough to see the next step. Many times the light seems to go out. But another light, one held by a stranger or friend, a book or a song, a blackbird or a wild flower, comes close enough so that we can see our path by its light. And in time we realize that the light we have borrowed was always our own. ↗

— Joan Borysenko

#solitude #sprituality #home