Quotes
Quotes about Home
Ay, now am I in Arden: the more fool I. When I was at home I was in a better place; but travellers must be content.
Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd
Showed like a stubble-land at harvest-home;
He was perfumed like a milliner,
And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
A pouncet-box, which ever and anon
He gave his nose and took 't away again.
He hath eaten me out of house and home.
This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.
Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home.
Come home to men's business and bosoms.
Mahomet made the people believe that he would call a hill to him, and from the top of it offer up his prayers for the observers of his law. The people assembled. Mahomet called the hill to come to him, again and again; and when the hill stood still he was never a whit abashed, but said, "If the hill will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the hill."
We can say nothing but what hath been said. Our poets steal from Homer.... Our story-dressers do as much; he that comes last is commonly best.
Homer himself must beg if he want means, and as by report sometimes he did "go from door to door and sing ballads, with a company of boys about him."
And this is that Homer's golden chain, which reacheth down from heaven to earth, by which every creature is annexed, and depends on his Creator.
Seven cities warred for Homer being dead,
Who living had no roofe to shrowd his head.
Kiss till the cow comes home.
The next way home's the farthest way about.
The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd,
Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made.
Stronger by weakness, wiser men become
As they draw near to their eternal home:
Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view
That stand upon the threshold of the new.
It is for homely features to keep home,--
They had their name thence; coarse complexions
And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply
The sampler and to tease the huswife's wool.
What need a vermeil-tinctur'd lip for that,
Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn?
Read Homer once, and you can read no more;
For all books else appear so mean, so poor,
Verse will seem prose; but still persist to read,
And Homer will be all the books you need.
Hope springs eternal in the human breast:
Man never is, but always to be blest.
The soul, uneasy and confined from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.
Those oft are stratagems which errors seem,
Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream.
For I, who hold sage Homer's rule the best,
Welcome the coming, speed the going guest.
You beat your pate, and fancy wit will come;
Knock as you please, there's nobody at home.
His native home deep imag'd in his soul.
Note 25.Quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus (Even the worthy Homer some times nods).--Horace: De Arte Poetica, 359.
If solid happiness we prize,
Within our breast this jewel lies,
And they are fools who roam.
The world has nothing to bestow;
From our own selves our joys must flow,
And that dear hut, our home.
Reparation for our rights at home, and security against the like future violations.
