“Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.”
Most people think the line is a joke, but Robert Frost meant it seriously as a line in his poem Death of the Hired Man. The poem takes place on a Vermont farm. Mary, the farmer’s wife, sits musing on the lamp-flame at the kitchen table, waiting for her husband Warren to tell him the news, “Silas is back.” And discuss what to do?
Robert Frost is always worth reading. Always familiar, like an old shoe that fits comfortably each time you put it on. Always stirring a few thoughts, some original some not.
Once you grow up and leave home, you learn the world is big and wide, and finding your way home is no easy thing.
The best part of traveling is losing yourself and then finding yourself.
Not all who wander are lost.
Home is not so much a place as a state of mind.
You can’t go home again, but you can visit.
You don’t need to know where you are going or where you are to be where you need to be.
There are challenges in life and crossroads, and when I come to them I have always followed Yogi Berra’s advice, when you see a fork in the road, take it.
There are two directions in life, home and away from home.
It is true, women want what they can’t have – a home in the country, a three-car garage, 2.2 children, and a husband who takes out the garbage.
I am not from West Virginia, but every time I hear John Denver sing his song Country Roads, I want to be.
A chair is to most of us, home for most of the time, so why not make it Stressless.
