A Quote by Elizabeth Gaskell

Oh, I can't describe my home. It is home, and I can't put its charm into words — © Elizabeth Gaskell
Oh, I can't describe my home. It is home, and I can't put its charm into words
Home sweet home. No place like home. Take me home, country roads. Home is where the heart is. But my heart is here. So I must be home. Clare sighs, turns her head, and is quiet. Hi, honey. I'm home. I'm home.
You mustn't stand about. Come home with me to dinner.’ ‘No.’ More shakes his head. ‘I would rather be blown around on the river and go home hungry. If I could trust you only to put food in my mouth – but you will put words into it.
There is nothing so difficult to describe as happiness. Whether some feeling of envy enters into the mind upon hearing of it, or whether it is so calm, so unassuming, so little ostentatious in itself, that words give an imperfect idea of it, I know not. It is easier to enjoy it, than define it. ... and is oftener found at home, when home has not been embittered by dissensions, suspicions and guilt, than any where else upon earth. Yes, it is in home and in those who watch there for us.
Americans don't want immigration. They don't want any more. Why can't we have a home? You see on 'National Geographic,' 'Oh, the indigenous people, they have a home.' Everyone else can have a home. We are the only people on Earth not allowed to have a home.
Temple. One other word is equal in importance to a Latter-day Saint. Home. Put the words holy temple and home together, and you have described the house of the Lord!
We don't put gender roles on our marriage and our relationship. If I'm working a lot and Cory's home, he will put Cree to bed, and if dishes need to be washed, he will wash them. So it's not like, 'Oh, I'm going to wait until my wife gets home, and she's going to be doing all that.'
A seven year old to a neighbor after the boy's house burned down, "Oh, that was not our home. That was our house. We still have our home. We just don't have a place to put it right now."
This is exactly how I would describe my work: 'I get there, I put on the clothes, I leave it on the hanger, and I go home.' And that's what I do.
Oh, to be home again, home again, home again! Under the apple-boughs, down by the mill!
There are these fantasies among people who watch movies where they're like, "Oh, there's a chemistry between them - something going on." And sometimes there is. But for me, it's more like, I go to work, I do a job, I play a role, and then I go home. I don't wear a cape at home. I'm not an invulnerable alien at home.
I've always been an independent wrestler at heart. You say I haven't had a 'home' but a company is not a home, a house is a home, a family is a home and I have that.
One of my favorite Finals was actually Detroit vs. Los Angeles, because it was home and home for me, personally. It was like my childhood home and my second home.
Home is the place where, when you go there, they have to take you in. In other words: Home has exceedingly low standards.
The home phone is relatively cheap, incredibly reliable, and - if you buy the right phone - will work for years without replacement. Oh, and far as I can tell, a home phone won't give you brain cancer. In a perfect world, the hard line should have become a platform for building out an entire app ecosystem for the home. And yet... it didn't.
Recognize, you ARE Home. Not, you are 'at home'... you ARE Home. Not, you have 'come home'... you ARE Home. You are that which IS Home.
Home is a blueprint of memory...Finding home is crucial to the act of writing. Begin here. With what you know. With the tales you've told dozens of times...with the map you've already made in your heart. That's where the real home is: inside. If we carry that home with us all the time, we'll be able to take more risks. We can leave on wild excursions, knowing we'll return home.
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