#home

You don't have to go away to know where your home is, everyone knows where their home is. And if you don't, you've got problems. ↗

— Walcott from Amy Roger's Epic Detour

#home

The end came as dusk fell on a gloomy winter day of cold rain. ↗

— Soheir Khashoggi

#heartbreak #sorrow #home

The coverlet warmed her legs. The firelight wobbled over the pages. Maelyn sank into the world the words wrapped around her, hushing everything that hurt, and seeping tranquility right down to her toes. She was home. ↗

— Anita Valle

#reading #home

I must apologize, it seems I've gone and gotten myself shot. ↗

— Millard in Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs

#ransom-riggs #home

I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days before you've actually left them. ↗

— Andy Bernard

#leaving-home #home

Home was where others had to gather grace. Home was what I wanted to flee. ↗

— Jerry Pinto

#frustration #home #illness #home

The night I left home I felt that I had been tricked or trapped into going - and not even by Mrs Winterson, but by the dark narrative of our life together. Her fatalism was so powerful. She was her own black hole that pulled in all the light. She was made of dark matter and her force was invisible unseen except in its effects. What would it have meant to be happy? What would it have meant if things had been bright, clear, good between us? ↗

— Jeanette Winterson

#home

And I’m sure they all played by the rules, just liked I did. By the way, when I got laid off four and a half years ago, the stock of my company was at an all-time high. Our CEO retired. He was paid $70 million. Maybe now that is only worth $30 million. Or maybe in a few years if he plays by the rules it will be worth $130 million. I’ll still be worth nothing. And I won’t have a home or my children. You see why I wonder about playing by the rules? Because I always do. As a result, you’re standing where I sleep. ↗

— Ken Goldstein

#laid-off #playing-by-the-rules #home

St. John,” I said, “I think you are al­most wicked to talk so. I am dis­posed to be as con­tent as a queen, and you try to stir me up to rest­less­ness! To what end?” “To the end of turn­ing to profit the tal­ents which God has committed to your keep­ing; and of which He will surely one day de­mand a strict ac­count. Jane, I shall watch you closely and anx­iously—I warn you of that. And try to re­strain the dis­pro­por­tion­ate fervour with which you throw your­self into com­mon­place home pleasures. Don’t cling so tena­ciously to ties of the flesh; save your con­stancy and ar­dour for an ad­e­quate cause; for­bear to waste them on trite tran­sient ob­jects. Do you hear, Jane?” “Yes; just as if you were speak­ing Greek. I feel I have ad­e­quate cause to be happy, and I will be happy. Good­bye! ↗

— Charlotte Brontë

#independence #home

I know you're an army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you, but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him—possibly because he's an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic, quite correctly I'm afraid. That's enough to be going on with, don't you think? {he exits and pops back in.} The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221b Baker Street. Afternoon. ↗

— Benedict Cumberbatch as BBCs Sherlock

#bbc #john-watson #sherlock #sherlock-holmes #home