My grandfather used to say ‘It is my house I am paying the bills’,my dad used to say ‘this is my house I pay the mortgage’,my generation is saying this is my house I pay the rent.

I used to dream about escaping my ordinary life, but my life was never ordinary. I had simply failed to notice how extraordinary it was. Likewise, I never imagined that home might be something I would miss.

It wasn't just that feeling of coming home - of being intrinsically attached to what was familiar - but more a case of being so in love with a part of the world that everything else paled in comparison.

I may stay here in this town another day or I may go on to another town. No one knows where I am. I am taking this bath in life, as you see, and when I have had enough of it I shall go home feeling refreshed.

Bagi gue, rumah adalah dia. Karena dia adalah tempat gue pulang. Karena, orang terbaik buat kita itu seperti rumah yang sempurna. Sesuatu yang bisa melindungi kita dari gelap, hujan, dan menawarkan kenyamanan.

Rootlessness," I opine, "is the twenty-first century norm.""You're not wrong and that's why we're in the shit we're in, mate. If you belong nowhere, why give a tinker's toss about anywhere?

It had to be U. U. was the only town I could still bear, the one spot in the atlas I'd already absorbed head-on. When you take too many of your critical hits in one place, that place can no longer hurt you.

There's been a lot to get used to here." Esther laughed. "Isn't that the truth. I don't know if you ever get used to it really. It just gets in your blood so that you can't stand to be anywhere else.

This house sheltered us, we spoke, we loved within those walls. That was yesterday. To-day we pass on, we see it no more, and we are different, changed in some infinitesimal way. We can never be quite the same again.

It’s not easy to kill; it’s not supposed to be. If it is, then there’s something wrong with you. But sometimes good people have to do unpleasant things just so we can come home at night to our kids.

Home, home - a few small rooms, stiflingly over-inhabited by a man, by a periodically teeming woman, by rabble of boys and girls of all ages. No air, no space; an understerilized prison; darkness, disease and smells.

Hidup adalah perjalanan untuk membangun rumah untuk hati. Mencari penutup lubang-lubang kekecewaan, penderitaan, ketidakpastian, dan keraguan. Akan penuh dengan perjuangan. Dan itu yang akan membuat sebuah rumah indah.

Dorrie gave Larry's hand an excited, distracted squeeze that said: almost home. They were about to be matter-of-factly claimed by familiar streets and houses and the life they'd chosen or which had chosen them.

Perhaps love is like a resting place, a shelter from the storm. It exists to give you comfort, it is there to keep you warm, and in those times of trouble when you are most alone, the memory of love will bring you home.

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