Where thou art, that is home

How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.

May our home know joy, each room hold laughter, every window open to great possibilities.

A well-loved home will always be a bit of a beautiful mess.

The home has endless love, laughter and laundry.

It matters less to a person where they are born than where they can live.

If you know you’re going home, the journey is never too hard.

You are a king by your own fireside, as much as any monarch in his throne.

Still round the corner there may wait, a new road or a secret gate.

Home is the place where we are treated the best but grumble the most

Home is where love resides. Memories are created. Friends are always welcome and laughter never ends

Home is four walls that enclose the right person.

We share our dwellings, and afterward, our dwellings shape us.

The home’s where you go when you run out of homes.

Good food and a warm kitchen are what make a house a home.

A home is a place you love until the end.

Home is a feeling of love and peace.

A house is made of walls and beams; a home is built with love and warmth.

We don’t call it homesick. We call it missing home. There’s not a sickness involved, it’s a state of mind.