What an enthusiastic devotion is that which sends a man from the attractions of home, the ties of neighbourhood, the bonds of country, to range plains, valleys, hills, mountains, for a new flower.
I know my father believed and my mother believed in and supported the suffrage movement, and I remember my mother taking me to suffrage meetings held in the home of a Quaker family that lived not far from us.
For me, it’s about being at home and living a life. Taking the dog for a walk, doing the shopping, emptying the dishwasher, going for a run.
One of the things I took from my wartime experiences was that reality was a stage set… the comfortable day-to-day life, school, the home where one lives and all the rest of it… could be dismantled overnight.
Caftans are just the perfect solution to what to wear at home. I love Camilla Franks’, but I also get great vintage ones on eBay.
Now I think poetry will save nothing from oblivion, but I keep writing about the ordinary because for me it’s the home of the extraordinary, the only home.
Basically, I believe the world is a jungle, and if it’s not a bit of a jungle in the home, a child cannot possibly be fit to enter the outside world.
Our father has always been very passionate about taekwondo. In all honesty, we were forced into it without a choice. He would train us every other night at home, so we would always be perfecting our technique.
Knitting not only relaxes me, it also brings a feeling of being at home.
We understood, growing up – ‘cause it was taught in our family home, my mom and dad – to respect women, for instance. To respect yourself. That you respect your name. Those are the kind of things we were taught.
You need to stick to a workout that fits into your lifestyle, targets your body issues, but also correlates to your objectives, whether you’re at home, on vacation, in the office, or on the road.
I compost at home. I’m always taking old banana peels, eggshells, coffee beans, or whatever it is, and putting them in a compost bin and then using it in my backyard.
In New York, I have a photo of my parents on their wedding day in 1947. They’re beaming at home plate in Houston’s Buffalo Stadium. I love the photo because my dad is smiling. He didn’t smile much in his later years.
Home is the center of life. It’s the wellspring of personhood. It’s where we say we’re ourselves.
This neo-minimalism super cold stuff is weird to me. I need a place where I can come home and take my shoes off.
I’m still living the life where you get home and open the fridge and there’s half a pot of yogurt and a half a can of flat Coca-Cola.
I grew up in a Christian home with amazing parents.
With everything that’s thrown at you, whether it be problems at home, problems at work – whatever – basically, if you remain positive, you can see your way out of that.
I have lots of Scottish blood and know that my family name is Scottish. At my home in the States I have a tartan crest but, unfortunately, I do a terrible Scottish accent.
I dislike feeling at home when I am abroad.
We are able to relieve stress by leaning on each other. We often hang out at our home, order takeout food, and talk openly about our feelings. We are all there for each other.
No one hit home runs the way Babe did. They were something special. They were like homing pigeons. The ball would leave the bat, pause briefly, suddenly gain its bearings, then take off for the stands.
I am the living death, a Memorial Day on wheels. I am your Yankee Doodle Dandy, your John Wayne come home, your Fourth of July firecracker exploding in the grave.
I never saw myself so much as an actor. I wanted to be a cartoonist like Charles M. Schulz and create my own world and be able to have a studio at home and not commute and be able to be with my family.
I want to create economic opportunity at home and abroad. I don’t want just one or the other. I want both.
