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There's nothing half so pleasant as coming home again.
There's nothing half so pleasant as coming home again.
When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that read more
When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.
The house of every one is to him as his castle and fortress, as
well for his defence against read more
The house of every one is to him as his castle and fortress, as
well for his defence against injury and violence, as for his
repose.
Estate agents. You can't live with them, you can't live with them. The first sign of these nasty purulent sores read more
Estate agents. You can't live with them, you can't live with them. The first sign of these nasty purulent sores appeared round about 1894. With their jangling keys, nasty suits, revolting beards, moustaches and tinted spectacles, estate agents roam the land causing perturbation and despair. If you try and kill them, you're put in prison: if you try and talk to them, you vomit. There's only one thing worse than an estate agent but at least that can be safely lanced, drained and surgically dressed. Estate agents. Love them or loathe them, you'd be mad not to loathe them.
Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.
Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.
The strength of a nation derives from the integrity of the home.
The strength of a nation derives from the integrity of the home.
One may have a blazing hearth in one's soul and yet no one ever come to sit by it. Passersby read more
One may have a blazing hearth in one's soul and yet no one ever come to sit by it. Passersby see only a wisp of smoke from the chimney and continue on the way.
Christmas... is not an external event at all, but a piece of one's home that one carries in one's heart.
Christmas... is not an external event at all, but a piece of one's home that one carries in one's heart.
I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.
I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.