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

Men are merriest when they are from home.

Charity begins at home, and justice begins next door.

The home is a human institution. All human institutions are open to improvement.

Every house: temple, empire, school.

An exile with no home anywhere is a corpse without a grave.

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

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

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

A crust of bread and a corner to sleep in / A minute to smile and an hour to weep in.