Many a man who thinks to found a home discovers that he has merely opened a tavern for his friends.

Every house: temple, empire, school.

An American will build a house in which to pass his old age and sell it before the roof is on.

Hospitality consists in a little fire, a little food, and an immense quiet.

For what do we live but to make sport for our neighbors and laugh at them in our turn?

The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.

People can say what they like about the eternal verities, love and truth and so on, but nothing’s as eternal as the dishes.

Charity begins at home, and justice begins next door.

At the worst, a house unkept cannot be so distressing as a life unlived.

Home is the girl’s prison and the woman’s workhouse.