A Quote by Hermann Hesse

A tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me!... Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all. — © Hermann Hesse
A tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me!... Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.
When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. . . . Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.
I love the Rio Grande Valley. I always say it's home - Texas is home. I've been out in L.A. a little over ten years, and I still get so excited when I go back home. It just feels comfortable; it makes me smile.
Is there a home, a home for me? Where the people stay until eternity? Is there a road that winds up, underneath the big green tree? Is there a home, a home for me?
Some say, why will people pay for cinema when they can watch cheaper DVDs at home? But I say, everyone has a kitchen at home, yet there are still many restaurants.
Once upon a time there was a crooked tree and a straight tree. And they grew next to each other. And every day the straight tree would look at the crooked tree and he would say, "You're crooked. You've always been crooked and you'll continue to be crooked. But look at me! Look at me!" said the straight tree. He said, "I'm tall and I'm straight." And then one day the lumberjacks came into the forest and looked around, and the manager in charge said, "Cut all the straight trees." And that crooked tree is still there to this day, growing strong and growing strange.
I still cook at home. A lot of chefs I think don't cook at home. But I still do, I love cooking at home, I love having friends.
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.
Baltimore is definitely still home. It's always going to be home for me.
I write in cafes, never at home. I cannot focus at home, am forever getting off my chair to do other things. In a cafe, I have to sit still, or I'll look a bit unhinged.
Distance and difference are the secret tonic of creativity. When we get home, home is still the same. But something in our mind has been changed, and that changes everything.
They [her parents] still highly encourage me to come home ... but, it's every time I go home I can tell they're disappointed in me, and that for me is kind of hard.
When I go home, I still have to clean my room; I still have to do the dishes. We have somebody come every now and then to do that stuff, but my mom still makes me clean before she comes.
Home is where the heart is, home is where the fart is. Come let us fart in the home. There is no art in a fart. Still a fart may not be artless. Let us fart and artless fart in the home.
St. Louis is still a special place for me. I still have my home there. I live there in the offseason. I enjoyed playing in front of 40,000 people every day. I tried to do my best to help the organization win. I had success there. We won two World Series. We went to three. That's something you can't take from me.
Even with all of its changing, Brooklyn's architecture still feels like home, the language feels like home. It's changing so quickly that it's surprising. It's surprising still, when someone looks kind of askance to see me walking towards them.
Even though I'm in this big, crazy business, I'm still just myself. I still celebrate Christmas; I still live at home.
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