A Quote by John Howard Payne

Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, There's no place like home. — © John Howard Payne
Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, There's no place like home.
There's a magical tie to the land of our home, which the heart cannot break, though the footsteps may roam.
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like Home when it comes to Wearing what you like.
Ever let the Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home.
It takes a Mother’s Love to make a house a home, a place to be remembered, no matter where we roam.
Well I come from a land, from a far away place, where the caravan camels roam. They will cut of your ear if they don't like your face, it's babaric, but hey, it's home.
Though my verse but roam the air And murmur in the trees, You may discern a purpose there, As in music of the bees.
Such is the patriot's boast, where'er we roam, His first best country ever is at home.
Some of us are born rebellious. Like Jean Genet or Arthur Rimbaud, I roam these mean streets like a villain, a vagabond, an outcast, scavenging for the scraps that may perchance plummet off humanity's dirty plates, though often sometimes taking a cab to a restaurant is more convenient.
Even though I am in my mid-40s, I live like I am in my mid-20s.
I feel like I've spent a lot of time imagining home and thinking about a dream-like place, as opposed to a real place, because that's not what I was able to do, meaning go home or be home.
Sensual pleasures are like soap bubbles, sparkling, effervescent. The pleasures of intellect are calm, beautiful, sublime, ever enduring and climbing upward to the borders of the unseen world.
We love our planet Earth. We should - it is our home, and there's no place like home. There can't ever be a better place than Earth.
Sometimes I may be totally arrogant, sometimes I may totally be the most humble guy you've ever met, sometimes I may be in between. But that's life. Who isn't like that? What's the big deal if I had an arrogant moment.
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.
Old age has its pleasures, which, though different, are not less than the pleasures of youth.
It was a broiling afternoon of mid-August in Brinoe and everybody who was anybody had long ago quit its burning pavements and chilly palaces for the mountains or the sea.
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