Flying Lotus Quotes

I am happiest when I'm sitting on my parent's couch with the fire place on and talking to my family.

Once upon a time there was a piece of wood. It was not an expensive piece of wood. Far from it. Just a common block of firewood, one of those thick, solid logs that are put on the fire in winter to make cold rooms cozy and warm.

Dispel the cold, bounteously replenishing the hearth with logs.

For me, there's nothing better than curling up in my favorite blanket on a cloudy or rainy day and just knit. Especially in front of the fireplace.

Books that you carry to the fire, and hold readily in your hand, are most useful after all.

Honestly, I'm living my fantasy. It's being with my family, preferably on a snowy afternoon with a fire going, cuddled up in blankets, playing a game.

I have a fireplace in my kitchen that I light every night, no matter what.

The Bowery Hotel is always a great place to meet people for drinks. It's so cozy in there, especially in the late fall and winter.

There's nothing better than curling up with a good book and sitting in front of the fire on winter evenings.

There was a fire in the wide hearth before them, and it was burning with a sweet smell, as if it were built of apple-wood.

Don't you stay at home of evenings? Don't you love a cushioned seat in a corner, by the fireside, with your slippers on your feet?

This neo-minimalism super cold stuff is weird to me. I need a place where I can come home and take my shoes off.

I love home, any home really - my mum's, and of course my own. I love eating food there and chilling in bed with a cup of tea.

We heat our home with wood so the fireplace is always going and it's pretty cozy in here, which is good because we have long winters in Wisconsin.

And I did feel there was an album to be made about winter that can make you feel the way Sinatra and Johnny Cash and Patsy Cline make me feel - warm, nostalgic and comforted.

I wrote a lot of 'Red Queen' wrapped in a blanket, cramped up while watching the snow come down.

I think people who come into my home feel comfortable and welcome and loved. And the biggest thing in my living room (the fireplace) is in and of itself an expression of love.

Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.

Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home. It is no season in which to wander the world as if one were the wind blowing aimlessly along the streets without a place to rest, without food, and without time meaning anything to one, just as time means nothing to the wind.

Nothing smelled so good or danced so well as a birch fire.

Like when you sit in front of a fire in winter — you are just there in front of the fire. You don't have to be smart or anything. The fire warms you.

Shut the door not that it lets in the cold but that it lets out the coziness.

A house with no fireplace is a house without a heart.

I have now and again tried to imagine the perfect environment, the ideal conditions for reading: A worn leather armchair on a rainy night? A hammock in a freshly mown backyard? A verandah overlooking the summer sea? Good choices, every one. But I have no doubt that they are all merely displacements, sentimental attempts to replicate the warmth and snugness of my mother's lap.

There is no place more delightful than home.