Category Archives: HOME

He starts each day before it is a day, the little kitchen spreading buttered light across the yard while he stokes up the stove and warms his pot of porridge.

The Farmer – Philip Hodgin

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晴耕雨読

(seiko udoku)

clear sky, cultivate, rainy, reading
Farm when it’s sunny, read when it rains.

Read more: http://www.linguanaut.com/japanese_sayings.htm#ixzz3qi41Aqfx

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Charity begins at hame, but shouldna end there.

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The presence of a noble nature, generous in its wishes, ardent in its charity, changes the lights for us: we begin to see things again in their larger, quieter masses, and to believe that we too can be seen and judged in the wholeness of our character.

[George Eliot [Mary Ann (or Marian) Evans] (1819-1880), British

I can feel the souls of my ancestors calling me back home To all the familiar places and tracks I once did roam

Source: http://www.creativespirits.info/aboriginalculture/arts/calling-me-home#ixzz3cLm28UAs

Lyndon Lane, Goodooga, NSW0 INDIAN

foto – izzy foreal at indian restaurant in bellingen 2013

I look back with gladness to the day when I found the path to
the land of heart’s desire, and thank Fate ceaselessly with a
loud voice that she did not permit the town to sap all the years
away while the heart was turning to wind-voices and
flower-faces and the hands of kindly earth.


–   Mrs. George Cran, The Garden of Ignorance, 1913)

Every road leads to Home.

RALEIGH

FOTO- THE COTTAGE VALERY ROAD RALEIGH

Love in a Cottage

A cottage small be mine, with porch
Enwreathed with ivy green,
And brightsome flowers with dew-filled bells,
’Mid brown old wattles seen.

And one to wait at shut of eve,
With eyes as fountain clear.
And braided hair, and simple dress,
My homeward step to hear.

On summer eves to sing old songs,
And talk o’er early vows.
While stars look down like angels’ eyes
Amid the leafy boughs.

When Spring flowers peep from flossy cells.
And bright-winged parrots call,
In forest paths be ours to rove
Till purple evenings fall.

The curtains closed, by taper clear
To read some page divine,
On winter nights, the hearth beside,
Her soft, warm hand in mine.

And so to guide through busy life,
Like some small brook alone,
That winds its way ’mid grassy knolls,
Its music all its own.

Daniel Deniehy (first published 1847)]

Come and share a pot of tea, My home is warm and my friendship’s free . Emilie Barnes

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Anybody can look at a pretty girl and see a pretty girl. An artist can look at a pretty girl and see the old woman she will become. A better artist can look at an old woman and see the pretty girl that she used to be. But a great artist-a master-and that is what Auguste Rodin was-can look at an old woman, portray her exactly as she is…and force the viewer to see the pretty girl she used to be…and more than that, he can make anyone with the sensitivity of an armadillo, or even you, see that this lovely young girl is still alive, not old and ugly at all, but simply prisoned inside her ruined body. He can make you feel the quiet, endless tragedy that there was never a girl born who ever grew older than eighteen in her heart…no matter what the merciless hours have done to her. Look at her, Ben. Growing old doesn’t matter to you and me; we were never meant to be admired-but it does to them.”

Robert A. Heinlein

I can feel the souls of my ancestors calling me back home To all the familiar places and tracks I once did roam

Calling Me Home by Lyndon Lane, Goodooga, NSW

Read more: http://www.creativespirits.info/aboriginalculture/arts/calling-me-home#ixzz2jqzHuj5H

 

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I survived by keeping my emotions in check – by maintaining my composure and tucking it all away. I managed to stay under the radar, skating through school without anyone truly remembering I was here. My teachers acknowledged my academic successes and my coaches depended upon my athletic abilities, but I wasn’t important enough to make a recognizable social contribution. I was easily forgettable. That’s what I counted on.” 

― Rebecca Donovan, Reason to Breathe

They are not wanton, but in the course of solving the practical problems of making a comfortable shelter, several trees may have to go

Boyd

http://westerlymag.com.au/wp-content/uploads/issues/pdf/1961Westerly+no.+1.pdf

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Old And New

Thou hast made me known to friends whom I knew not. 
Thou hast given me seats in homes not my own. 
Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger. 

I am uneasy at heart when I have to leave my accustomed shelter; 
I forget that there abides the old in the new, 
and that there also thou abidest. 

Through birth and death, in this world or in others, 
wherever thou leadest me it is thou, the same, 
the one companion of my endless life 
who ever linkest my heart with bonds of joy to the unfamiliar. 

When one knows thee, then alien there is none, then no door is shut. 
Oh, grant me my prayer that I may never lose 
the bliss of the touch of the one 
in the play of many.

Rabindranath Tagore

 

shelter

A crab never forget he hole

http://wiwords.com/flavours

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They say if you live on an island for too long, you merge with it. Your bones become the sand, your blood the ocean. Your flesh is the fertile ground. Your heart becomes the stories, dances, songs… They say when you leave, the sound of the waves stays with you… The island calls to you, and your children, and their children. It will beg for you to join it, and know it, forever. No matter where you and your children travel, the island is home.

(c) Terri Janke

 

http://www.indigiquotes.com/index.php/indigenous-quotes/our-country/73-they-say-if-you-live-on-an-island-for-too-long-you-merge-with-it

You can never go home again, but the truth is you can never leave home, so it’s all right.

  ~Maya Angelou

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“All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that,
And I intend to end up there.

This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I’ll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I’m like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off,
But who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?

Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.

This poetry. I never know what I’m going to say.
I don’t plan it.
When I’m outside the saying of it, I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.

We have a huge barrel of wine, but no cups.
That’s fine with us. Every morning
We glow and in the evening we glow again.”

― Rumi

It is always sad when someone leaves home, unless they are simply going around the corner and will return in a few minutes with ice-cream sandwiches.”

― Lemony Snicket, Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can’t Avoid

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“…We leave our homeland, our property and our friends. We give up the familiar ground that supports our ego, admit the helplessness of ego to control its world and secure itself. We give up our clingings to superiority and self-preservation…It means giving up searching for a home, becoming a refugee, a lonely person who must depend on himself…Fundamentally, no one can help us. If we seek to relieve our loneliness, we will be distracted from the path. Instead, we must make a relationship with loneliness until it becomes aloneness.”

― Chögyam Trungpa, The Myth of Freedom and the Way of Meditation

It is easier to make a camel jump a ditch than to make a fool listen to reason. Kurdish

http://creativeproverbs.com/cgi-bin/sql_search3cp.cgi?boolean=and&field=all&frank=all&keyword=camel

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“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.”

― Walt Disney Company

This shall be home, where danger was my cradle, and all we have learned will guard us!

― Brian W. Aldiss, The Long Afternoon of Earth

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In my age, as in my youth, night brings me many a deep remorse. I realize that from the cradle up I have been like the rest of the race–never quite sane in the night.
– Mark Twain’s Autobiography

Home ought to be our clearinghouse, the place from which we go forth lessoned and disciplined, and ready for life.

Kathleen Norris

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“I have sometimes thought that a woman’s nature is like a great house
full of rooms: there is a hall, through which everyone passes in
going in and out; the drawing-room, where one receives formal visits . . .
and in the innermost room, the holy of holies,
the soul sits alone and waits for a footstep that never comes.”
― Edith Wharton, The Fullness of Life

The world is a globe — the farther you sail, the closer to home you are.

Terry Pratchett, Nation

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“blessing the boats
(at saint mary’s)

may the tide
that is entering even now
the lip of our understanding
carry you out
beyond the face of fear
may you kiss
the wind then turn from it
certain that it will
love your back
may you
open your eyes to water
water waving forever
and may you in your innocence
sail through this to that”

― Lucille Clifton

I’m working on my own life story. I don’t mean I’m putting it together; no, I’m taking it apart.

― Margaret Atwood, The Tent

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“It’s a strange life, isn’t it? …A Rom with no tribe. No matter how hard you look, you can never find a home. Because to us, home is not a building or a tent or a vardo… home is a family.”

― Lisa Kleypas, Seduce Me at Sunrise

I sincerely hope your Christmas…may abound in the gaieties which the season generally brings.

― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

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“For outlandish creatures like us, on our way to a heart, a brain, and courage, Bethlehem is not the end of our journey but only the beginning – not home but the place through which we must pass if ever we are to reach home at last.”

― Frederick Buechner, The Magnificent Defeat

There are people in the world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread. ― Mahatma Gandhi

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“Upon the hearth the fire is red,
Beneath the roof there is a bed;
But not yet weary are our feet,
Still round the corner we may meet
A sudden tree or standing stone
That none have seen but we alone.
Tree and flower, leaf and grass,
Let them pass! Let them pass!
Hill and water under sky,
Pass them by! Pass them by!
Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate,
And though we pass them by today,
Tomorrow we may come this way
And take the hidden paths that run
Towards the Moon or to the Sun.
Apple, thorn, and nut and sloe,
Let them go! Let them go!
Sand and stone and pool and dell,
Fare you well! Fare you well!
Home is behind, the world ahead,
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadows to the edge of night,
Until the stars are all alight.
Then world behind and home ahead,
We’ll wander back to home and bed.
Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,
Away shall fade! Away shall fade!
Fire and lamp and meat and bread,
And then to bed! And then to bed!”

― J.R.R. Tolkien

I am not going to die, I’m going home like a shooting star.

-Sojourner Truth (1797? – 1883) US abolitionist, reformer c. 1883, in "Words to Make My Dream Children Live," by Deirdre Mullane, 1995.

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I’m the kind of person that when I really want something, I wish for it. I wish on shooting stars. I wish on lots of things.

-Picabo Street

Our Father refreshes us on the journey with some pleasant inns, but will not encourage us to mistake them for home.

― C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

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“The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding-
Riding-riding-
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.”

― Alfred Noyes, The Highwayman

Serenity now that blessed state I had to wait such a long, long time.

© Jennifer Liston 2009

SERENITY NOW

BELLINGER VALLEY NSW AUSTRALIA

IF you find a young man who does not love home, whose taste is formed for other joys, who can see no happiness in the serene enjoyment of the domestic circle, you may depend upon it he is not to be trusted.

REV. J. ABBOTT.

Moral emblems, with aphorisms, adages, and proverbs, of all ages and nations