#ra

home is nowhere and the journey to arrive there is one of the greatest illusions sustaining humankind ↗

— Rosangela Maria Vieira

#home

still other winters average their rain months into a long, cold season of relentless sog and little color. At such times, looking out through the spattered glass, I feel, deep in some spongy, unignorable organ, that we will have floods, and damage, and losses; we will have gray till the cows come home, and there will be no more cows--they'll all just rot, drown, or simply wash away. We will have rain until the very hills dissolve. And when the dirty cotton swaddling of fog finally falls away, we will all be desperate for vital signs. ↗

— Robert Michael Pyle

#winter #home

Everything in creation has its appointed painter or poet and remains in bondage like the princess in the fairy tale 'til its appropriate liberator comes to set it free. ↗

— Ralph Waldo Emerson

#create #inspiration #poetry #prose #write

Me & my fellow fairies are running away from a huge monster that keeps destroying our home land,sobbed Farina. The monster is terribly scary,has huge jaws, creates clouds of smoke & makes loads of noise everywhere it goes. ↗

— Magda M. Olchawska

#children-books #fairies #illustrated-books #kids #kids-books

If you ask me, houses shouldn't have been built down here. These little block-long streets cease abruptly at the open space that remains on the side of the hill, and the hill is angry that development has crept so close. It whips these pathetic homes with a battering, constant wind. It sends soggy clouds to sit damply atop the roofs, trickling stagnant moisture, birthing deep green molds. It sends its monsters, the horrifying Jerusalem crickets, up from the soil to invade basement apartments, looking like greasy, translucent alien insects. They drive me crying into the bathroom to strategize their eviction from my home. ↗

— Michelle Tea

#san-francisco #home

Charity didn't mean to waste the entire afternoon. But her favorite daytime drama was on the telly. It was always the same, she thought, stretching out on the bed to watch. The sex got her interested first, and then the story. Before long she was totally hooked, and deep into the intricate plots and the glamorous goings-on. And afterwards, she just felt drained. She was sound asleep by the time Lady Margaret came home. ↗

— Elizabeth Jane Howard

#soap-operas #home

Greatness lies not in being strong, but in the right use of strength. ↗

— Henry Ward Beecher

#inspirational

But trailing clouds of glory do we come from God, who is our home. ↗

— William Wordsworth

#home

Democracy: when artists lose patronage and are simply patronized. This is the case everywhere except America, where true art has never existed, and democracy has recently followed suit. ↗

— Benson Bruno

#art #democracy #funny #art

But I have seen the best of you and the worst of you, and I choose both. I want to share every single one of your sunshines and save them for later. I will tuck them into my pockets so I can give them back to you when the rain falls hard. Friend, I want to be the mirror that reminds you to love yourself. I want to be the air in your lungs that reminds you to breath. When the walls come down, when the thunder rumbles, when nobody else is home, hold my hand, and I promise I won’t let go. ↗

— Sarah Kay

#home