Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyt’s New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922.
Home
No outward doors of a man’s house can in general be broken open to execute any civil process; though in criminal cases the public safety supersedes the private.
Blackstone (Stephen’s) Vol. IV. P. 108. (Ed. 1880).
At length his lonely cot appears in view,
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;
Th’ expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher thro’
To meet their Dad, wi’ flichterin noise an’ glee.
Burns—The Cotter’s Saturday Night. St. 3.
To make a happy fireside clime
To weans and wife,
That’s the true pathos and sublime
Of human life.
Burns—Epistle to Dr. Blacklock.
I’ve read in many a novel, that unless they’ve souls that grovel—
Folks prefer in fact a hovel to your dreary marble halls.
Calverley—In the Gloaming.
My whinstone house my castle is,
I have my own four walls.
Carlyle—My Own Four Walls.
When the hornet hangs in the holly hock,
And the brown bee drones i’ the rose,
And the west is a red-streaked four-o’clock,
And summer is near its close—
It’s—Oh, for the gate, and the locust lane;
And dusk, and dew, and home again!
Madison Cawein—In the Lane.
Old homes! old hearts! Upon my soul forever
Their peace and gladness lie like tears and laughter.
Madison Cawein—Old Homes.
Nullus est locus domestica sede jucundior.
There is no place more delightful than one’s own fireside.
Cicero—Epistles. IV. 8.
Home is home, though it be never so homely.
John Clarke—Paroemiologia. P. 101.
For a man’s house is his castle.
Sir Edward Coke—Institutes. Pt. III. Against Going, or Riding Armed. P. 162.
The house of every one is to him as his castle and fortress, as well for his defence against injury and violence, as for his repose.
Sir Edward Coke—Reports, Semaynes’ Case. Vol. III. Pt. V. P. 185.
For the whole world, without a native home,
Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
Cowley—To the Bishop of Lincoln. L. 27.
I am far frae my hame, an’ I’m weary aften whiles,
For the longed-for hame-bringing an’ my Father’s welcome smiles.
Erastus Ellsworth—My Ain Countrie. See Moody and Sankey’s Hymns, No. 5.
The house is a castle which the King cannot enter.
Emerson—English Traits. Wealth.
There’s nobody at home
But Jumping Joan,
And father and mother and I.
George Gascoigne—Tale of Ieronimi. (1577).
The whitewash’d wall, the nicely sanded floor,
The varnish’d clock that click’d behind the door;
The chest contriv’d a double debt to pay,
A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day.
Goldsmith—The Deserted Village. L. 227.
At night returning, every labour sped,
He sits him down, the monarch of a shed;
Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round surveys
His children’s looks, that brighten at the blaze;
While his lov’d partner, boastful of her hoard,
Displays her cleanly platter on the board.
Goldsmith—The Traveller. L. 191.
How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure!
Still to ourselves in every place consigned,
Our own felicity we make or find.
With secret course, which no loud storms annoy,
Glides the smooth current of domestic joy.
Goldsmith—The Traveller. L. 429.
What if in Scotland’s wilds we veil’d our head,
Where tempests whistle round the sordid bed;
Where the rug’s two-fold use we might display,
By night a blanket, and a plaid by day.
E. B. G.—Attributed in the British Museum Cat. to Edward Burnaby Greene. (1764). The Satires of Juvenal Paraphrastically Imitated, and adapted to the Times.
The stately Homes of England,
How beautiful they stand!
Amidst their tall ancestral trees,
O’er all the pleasant land.
Felicia D. Hemans—Homes of England.
My house, my house, though thou art small,
Thou art to me the Escurial.
Herbert—Jacula Prudentum. No. 416.
His native home deep imag’d in his soul.
Homer—Odyssey. Bk. XIII. L. 38. Pope’s trans.
Peace and rest at length have come,
All the day’s long toil is past;
And each heart is whispering, “Home,
Home at last!”
Hood—Home At Last.
Who hath not met with home-made bread,
A heavy compound of putty and lead—
And home-made wines that rack the head,
And home-made liquors and waters?
Home-made pop that will not foam,
And home-made dishes that drive one from home—
******
Home-made by the homely daughters.
Hood—Miss Kilmansegg.
The beauty of the house is order,
The blessing of the house is contentment,
The glory of the house is hospitality.
House Motto.
Appeles us’d to paint a good housewife upon a snayl; which intimated that she should be as slow from gadding abroad, and when she went she should carry her house upon her back; that is, she should make all sure at home.
Howell—Parly of Beasts. (1660). P. 58.
I think some orator commenting upon that fate said that though the winds of heaven might whistle around an Englishman’s cottage, the King of England could not.
John J. Ingalls. In the U. S. Senate. May 10, 1880.
As a lodge in a garden of cucumbers.
Isaiah. I. 8.
Our law calleth a man’s house, his castle, meaning that he may defend himselfe therein.
Lambard—Eiren. II. VII. 257. (1588).
Cling to thy home! If there the meanest shed
Yield thee a hearth and shelter for thy head,
And some poor plot, with vegetables stored,
Be all that Heaven allots thee for thy board,
Unsavory bread, and herbs that scatter’d grow
Wild on the river-brink or mountain-brow;
Yet e’en this cheerless mansion shall provide
More heart’s repose than all the world beside.
Leonidas—Home.
Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest;
Home-keeping hearts are happiest,
For those that wander they know not where
Are full of trouble and full of care;
To stay at home is best.
Longfellow—Song. St. 1.
A house of dreams untold,
It looks out over the whispering treetops,
And faces the setting sun.
Edward Macdowell. Heading to From a Log Cabin. Inscribed on memorial tablet near his grave.
I in my own house am an emperor,
And will defend what’s mine.
Massinger—Roman Actor. Act I. Sc. 2.
It is for homely features to keep home.
They had their name thence.
Milton—Comus. L. 748.
Far from all resort of mirth,
Save the cricket on the hearth.
Milton—Il Penseroso. L. 81.
His home, the spot of earth supremely blest,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.
Montgomery—West Indies. Pt. III. L. 67.
Who has not felt how sadly sweet
The dream of home, the dream of home,
Steals o’er the heart, too soon to fleet,
When far o’er sea or land we roam?
Moore—The Dream of Home. St. 1.
Subduing and subdued, the petty strife,
Which clouds the colour of domestic life;
The sober comfort, all the peace which springs
From the large aggregate of little things;
On these small cares of daughter, wife or friend,
The almost sacred joys of home depend.
Hannah More—Sensibility.
’Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like Home.
J. Howard Payne—Home Sweet Home. Song in Clari, The Maid of Milan.
The poorest man may in his cottage bid defiance to all the force of the Crown. It may be frail, its roof may shake; the wind may blow through it; the storms may enter,—the rain may enter,—but the King of England cannot enter; all his forces dare not cross the threshold of the ruined tenement!
William Pitt (Earl of Chatham)—Speech on the Excise Bill.
Home is where the heart is.
Pliny.
My lodging is in Leather-Lane,
A parlor that’s next to the sky;
’Tis exposed to the wind and the rain,
But the wind and the rain I defy.
W. B. Rhodes—Bombastes Furioso. Sc. 4.
Just the wee cot—the cricket’s chirr—
Love and the smiling face of her.
James Whitcomb Riley—Ike Walton’s Prayer.
To fireside happiness, to hours of ease
Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.
Sam’l Rogers—Human Life. L. 347.
Gallus in sterquilinio suo plurimum potest.
The cock is at his best on his own dunghill.
Seneca—De Morte Claudii.
And I’ll still stay, to have thee still forget,
Forgetting any other home but this.
Romeo and Juliet. Act II. Sc. 2. L. 175.
That is my home of love.
Sonnet CIX.
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.
Two Gentlemen of Verona. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 2.
Ma meason est a moy come mon castel, hors de quel le ley ne moy arta a fuer.
My house is to me as my castle, since the law has not the art to destroy it.
Staunforde—Plees del Coron. 14 B. (1567).
Home is the resort
Of love, of joy, of peace, and plenty; where
Supporting and supported, polished friends
And dear relations mingle into bliss.
Thomson—The Seasons. Autumn. L. 65.
Though home be but homely, yet huswife is taught
That home hath no fellow to such as have aught.
Tusser—Points of Huswifery. Instructions to Huswifery. VIII. P. 243. (1561).
I read within a poet’s book
A word that starred the page,
“Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage.”
Yes, that is true, and something more:
You’ll find, where’er you roam,
That marble floors and gilded walls
Can never make a home.
But every house where Love abides
And Friendship is a guest,
Is surely home, and home, sweet home;
For there the heart can rest.
Henry Van Dyke—Home Song.
They dreamt not of a perishable home.
Wordsworth—Inside of King’s College Chapel, Cambridge.
The man who builds, and wants wherewith to pay,
Provides a home from which to run away.
Young—Love of Fame. Satire I. L. 171.