Albert Camus Quotes

If there's a heaven upon the earth, a fellow knows it when He's been away from home a week, and then gets back again.

I still want to return home whenever I get a chance.

I know you've run away - everybody gets the urge to do that some time - but sooner or later you'll want to go home.

After all, I long to be in America again, nay, if I can go home to return no more to Europe, it seems to me that I shall ever enjoy more peace of mind, and even Physical comfort than I can meet with in any portion of the world beside.

I am an Australian citizen, and I miss my country a great deal.

When memories fade, can one ever really return home?

I've spent lots of time in London, I studied in London, I like London. It's just not my home.

Don't think I am not homesick for America. I say 'homesick' advisedly because I am a man with two homes - America, which gave me hospitality for many happy years, and where my daughter was born; and my native England.

It's part of me, Scotland. I'm still immersed in it even though I am not there.

When I left Spain, I had it very clear in my mind that I would return one day.

People always think I left, and I was living in the States for a long time... But home has always been Calgary.

Does anyone who leaves a Baltic country ever want to return to it? Someone must, I suppose.

I remember being so homesick and realizing that where I came from was not something that existed in the cultural imagination outside the city. People used to think Miami was just partying in South Beach all the time.

So many of my films involve houses or homes that have been abandoned. People trying to get back home. That's an idea that I keep dealing with.

I get homesick - I could be in the sunniest place, but I need to see normality, and normal, for me, is London.

Barcelona is my home. It's impossible to say that I wouldn't return.

Tuesday will be a tough night for me. It's like to return to the family who have not seen you for a long time. I spent a wonderful time there.

Men dream more about coming home than about leaving.

How often have I lain beneath rain on a strange roof, thinking of home.

When I became conscious of being a person, when I was very small, I knew that I was from Indiana, but I had never seen Indiana. I was born there, but we moved when I was, like, a year old. I always had a sense of a place that was far away from where I was. I would research it and find out about it and I remember on Christmas morning I used to always call Indiana to find out what the weather was like; to see if it was snowing or not.

I could not imagine living away from Sevenwaters, away from all that was so much a part of me. Maybe, if you cared enough about someone, you could do it and not feel your spirit torn in two. But the forest keeps her hold on all those who are born there, and they cannot travel far without the yearning in them to return.

One's home is like a delicious piece of pie you order in a restaurant on a country road one cozy evening - the best piece of pie you have ever eaten in your life - and can never find again. After you leave home, you may find yourself feeling homesick, even if you have a new home that has nicer wallpaper and a more efficient dishwasher than the home in which you grew up.

The impulse for much writing is homesickness. You are trying to get back home, and in your writing you are invoking that home, so you are assuaging the homesickness.

Everyone comes back. It makes no difference how far we wander, we always have our country, our land, in our souls and our minds.