A Quote by Ingrid Betancourt

France is my home; you are my family. I am carrying all of you in my heart. — © Ingrid Betancourt
France is my home; you are my family. I am carrying all of you in my heart.
I'm opposed to wearing headscarves in public places. That's not France. There's something I just don't understand: the people who come to France, why would they want to change France, to live in France the same way they lived back 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.
What is a throne? - a bit of wood gilded and covered in velvet. I am the state- I alone am here the representative of the people. Even if I had done wrong you should not have reproached me in public - people wash their dirty linen at home. France has more need of me than I of France.
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.
I am truly a "lone traveler" and have never belonged to my country, my home, my friends, or even my immediate family, with my whole heart.
In France, Christmas is a family holiday. You stay home. New Year's Eve is when you go out.
Sometimes it felt like I was carrying pieces of human flesh back home with me, not negatives. It's as if you are carrying the suffering of the people you have photographed.
I am technically "boss" of the family which I am carrying along-but I am grateful to know that it is only technically - that the real authority rests on the other side of the house. It is placed there by a beneficent Providence, who foresaw before I was born, or, if he did not, he has found it out since - that I am not in any way qualified to travel alone.
I never rebel so much against France as not to regard Paris with a friendly eye; she has had my heart since my childhood... I love her tenderly, even to her warts and her spots. I am French only by this great city: the glory of France, and one of the noblest ornaments of the world.
I was raised in a group home for 14 years, so I was a beneficiary of philanthropy. I didn't have a family. The nameless, faceless strangers were my family. They gave me an education, put food on the table and clothes on my back. I am who I am because of that formative experience. Now I am paying it forward.
The American family is not simply changing; it is getting weaker. . . . Family decline drives some of our most urgent social problems. . . . The heart of the family problem lies in the steady breakup of the two-parent home.
I can't move back to England. My home is in France now. I'd love to but I can't. My family's all there now.
Irish women are always carrying water on their heads, and always carrying their husbands home from pubs. Such things are the greatest posture-builders in the world.
For some reason I'm more appreciated in France than I am back home. The subtitles must be incredibly good.
My heart has always been truly convinced that in serving the cause of America, I am fighting for the interests of France.
My heart feels not so much in my chest as in my hands. I am carrying it along swiftly, as though I have become the messenger for what is going on inside me.
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