I didn't feel like I had a home until I moved to El Paso.
I feel like I've never had a home, you know? I feel related to the country, to this country, and yet I don't know exactly where I fit in... There's always this kind of nostalgia for a place, a place where you can reckon with yourself.
I don't think many people consider in their heart that they have two places that are home.
School was my sanctuary.
My ideal destination is a place where my family is; it could be anywhere in the world and it'll still be home.
Santa Barbara is my hood. I mean, it's not much of a hood, but it is definitely like my hood. I claim Santa Barbara like I claim my family. I'm going to be married and buried there.
Once I am in the square circle, I am in my home.
Home is a relative concept for me. I've been in Los Angeles 10 years, and I definitely feel at home here, but I also feel at home in a lot of places. I'm not too attached to anywhere, really. Home is where the people you love are at the time.
Home is your sanctuary.
If thou canst but thither, There grows the flower of Peace, The Rose that cannot wither, Thy fortress and thy ease.
I think there's definitely a potential there for a congregation to survive without the Crystal Cathedral. The congregation is the people. It's not the building.
I have learned and dismantled all the words in order to draw from them a single word: Home.
I find Cambridge an asylum, in every sense of the word.
Your heart is your home, and all roads lead to home.
I was born on this mountain, this mountains my home, she holds me and keeps me from worry and woe.
When we went to mass that first Sunday after moving to a new place, that was where we felt at home and were able to say, 'well, home is anywhere, it doesn't matter where we live because we have the faith.'
Home is always the impossible subject, multilayered and maddening.
