No money is better spent than what is laid out for domestic satisfaction.

Going home must be like going to render an account.

Home is like a bee-hive; there may be much toil, there must be much order, but there will always be a honeyed sweetness.

A home is like a nest--it's only useful for so long.

We can recall what home is like, or rather, what we want home to be like--safe, secure, serene, beautiful. We know that there is a way to get there, if only we can find the right road, if only we can remember where home is, or, rather, was.

Ah! many a storm Love can safely outride,

But a secret at home is like rocks under tide.

A home is like a piece of music where all essentials are in harmony. Every mind has its hidden light, and each member of the family brings its radiance to the breakfast table, where the keynote of the day is sounded. It may be a low growl on the bass notes, a shrill falsetto, or a sweet clear sound, but from it the strain of the day largely takes its tone.

"Home" is any four walls that enclose the right person.

A happy home is the single spot of rest which a man has upon this earth for the cultivation of his noblest sensibilities.

The strength of a nation, especially of a republican nation, is in the intelligent and well-ordered homes of the people.

I want a house that has got over all its troubles; I don't want to spend the rest of my life bringing up a young and inexperienced house.

The home is as stately as the most beautiful forest tree,

It stands thru pain and storm, to show what its glory can be,

This blessed home sings its songs in glorious harmony,

And like a Heavenly choir, lifts its anthems full and free,

It stands like the beauty of a multi-colored forest,

And shows its jubilation in joy and glorious harvest.

Home is like a shadow,

It will always follow me.

And so it is, after I move,

Home is where I'll be.

If men lived like men indeed, their houses would be temples--temples which we should hardly dare to injure, and in which it would make us holy to be permitted to live; and there must be a strange dissolution of natural affection, a strange unthankfulness for all that homes have given and parents taught, a strange consciousness that we have been unfaithful to our fathers' honour, or that our own lives are not such as would make our dwellings sacred to our children, when each man would fain build to himself, and build for the little revolution of his own life only.

A house means a family house, a place specially meant for putting children and men in so as to restrict their waywardness and distract them from the longing for adventure and escape they've had since time began.

The fellow that owns his own home is always just coming out of a hardware store.

A Christian home! What a power it is to the child when he is far away in the cold, tempting world, and voices of sin are filling his ears, and his feet stand on slippery places.

The poorest man may in his cottage bid defiance to all the forces of the Crown. It may be frail--its roof may shake--the wind may blow through it--the storm may enter--the rain may enter--but the King of England cannot enter!--all his forces dare not cross the threshold of the ruined tenement!

A comfortable house is a great source of happiness. It ranks immediately after health and a good conscience.

Home is like a house inside your head where your thoughts gather. You learn to love others in the living room where you let the light in. Some rooms will be dark places where your demons reside. Learn to control that darkness. Let those uninvited guests have their moments, then usher them out the door. You have forgiveness when the demons become powerless. They will always come back, but you have freedom when you become the keeper of the keys.

The worst feeling in the world is the homesickness that comes over a man occasionally when he is at home.

Owning your own home is America's unique recipe for avoiding revolution and promoting pseudo-equality at the same time. To keep citizens puttering in their yards instead of sputtering on the barricades, the government has gladly deprived itself of billions in tax revenues by letting home "owners" deduct mortgage interest payments.

A man who has no home is like the cuckoo which has no nest, or the butterfly which has no hive; the one is proverbial for selfishness and folly, the other for levity and worldly-mindedness.

A man's home may seem to be his castle on the outside; inside, it is more often his nursery.

Construed as turf, home just seems a provisional claim, a designation you make upon a place, not one it makes on you. A certain set of buildings, a glimpsed, smudged window-view across a schoolyard, a musty aroma sniffed behind a garage when you were a child, all of which come crowding in upon your latter-day senses--those are pungent things and vivid, even consoling. But to me they are also inert and nostalgic and unlikely to connect you to the real, to that essence art can sometimes achieve, which is permanence.

When I can no longer bear to think of the victims of broken homes, I begin to think of the victims of intact ones.

A house is a machine for living in.

One never reaches home, but wherever friendly paths intersect the whole world looks like home for a time.