Open House Quotes

The outer world, from which we cower into our houses, seemed after all a gentle habitable place; and night after night a man's bed, it seemed, was laid and waiting for him in the fields, where God keeps an open house. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

I was a very shy child. I remember being in a kindergarten open house with my mother and children saying 'Hi' to me, and I still remember feeling this way - but I don't know why - but I wouldn't even say 'Hi' back. I was that shy. ~ Jim Parsons

My secrets cry aloud.
I have no need for tongue.
My heart keeps open house,
My doors are widely swung.
An epic of the eyes
My love, with no disguise.
My truths are all foreknown,
This anguish self-revealed.
I'm naked to the bone,
With nakedness my shield.
Myself is what I wear:
I keep the spirit spare.
The anger will endure,
The deed will speak the truth
In language strict and pure.
I stop the lying mouth:
Rage warps my clearest cry
To witless agony. ~ Theodore Roethke

She bade solitude good-bye. Good-bye to no schedule but whim; good-bye to her life among no things but her own and each always in place; good-bye to no real meals, good-bye free thought. The whole fat flock of them flapped away. But what was solitude for if not to foster decency? Her solitude always held open house. when was the last time anyone needed her? She was eager to do it, whatever it was. ~ Annie Dillard

When the second hour of Fiji's open house was almost at an end, a mother from Davy said, "How on earth do you get it to look like the cat is talking?" "Oh, did it look realistic?" Fiji had to struggle to keep a smile on her face. "It was so cute! It said, 'Get off my tail or I'll smother you in your sleep.'" "Just some batteries and a CD!" Fiji said. "And isn't that just what a cat should say? ~ Charlaine Harris

When the house is blown up, there's nothing to shut or open. ~ Julien Torma

Before I had a record deal, I was living in New York and playing anywhere I could, from somebody's house to an open mic to coffeeshops. ~ Langhorne Slim

If I am going to get in a cab to go home, and I see a sign for an open house, I will go in. I like real estate because I am the boss. ~ Lorraine Bracco

Patriotism is a virtue, no doubt: and it is a duty to cherish patriotism in ourselves and others. But patriotism means wishing well to our country, and the question is what is this "well". Lord Beaconsfield would say "material prosperity, grandeur, increase of power and territory"; Mr. Gladstone would say "that our country may act virtuously". If patriotism is an extension of the feeling which we have about our relatives, Mr. Gladstone is surely right; we wish our relatives to be good men in the first instance, and then successful men, if success is compatible with goodness. I cannot understand how many excellent people fail to feel thus about their country too; it would seem to me that exactly in the proportion in which we realise the fact that a nation is only a very overgrown family which has kept open house for some centuries will be our anxiety that this country should act as a good man would act; and that patriotism consists in wishing this. ~ Henry Parry Liddon

You know before you know, of course. You are bending over the dryer, pulling out the still-warm sheets, and the knowledge walks up your backbone. You stare at the man you love and you are staring at nothing; he is gone before he is gone. ~ Elizabeth Berg

There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.

For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay on their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.
Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the yule tale was begun.

A Child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost - how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky's dome.

This world is wild as an old wives' tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.

To an open house in the evening
Home shall men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that can ~ G.K. Chesterton

I remove my wedding rings and put them in the jewelry box. So many others have done this. I am not the only one. I am not the only one. But here, I am the only one. ~ Elizabeth Berg

I'll show up at every classroom open house and teacher conference,' she said, now in a voice that was almost frightening in its intensity. 'I'll bake brownies. My child will have new clothes. Her shoes will fit. She'll get her shots, and she'll get her braces. We'll start a college fund next week. I'll tell her I love her every damn day.'
If that wasn't a great plan for being a good mother, I couldn't imagine what a better one could be. ~ Charlaine Harris

My mother lost too much and repaired herself in the only way she was able to repair herself. That in fact she is repairing herself, hour by hour. ~ Elizabeth Berg

To put up with people, to keep open house with one's heart - that is liberal, but that is merely liberal. One recognizes those hearts which are capable of noble hospitality by the many draped windows and closed
shutters, they keep their best rooms empty. Why? Because they expect guests with whom one does not "put up. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Yo mama is so fat that she left the house in high heels and came back wearing flip flops. ~ Mature Jokemaker Jr.

The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So we sat in the house. All that cold, cold, wet day. ~ Dr. Seuss

The two skills of the warrior are compassion and insight. Compassion is easy - it arises spontaneously from an open heart. Insight or discernment requires more skill. We have to choose our battles. ~ Margaret J. Wheatley

But who you are is not a concept in the sky, and it's not a record of you accomplishments either. The most original and creative side of you can re-emerge only when you get time of your own, free time, wide-open time, uncommitted time, time in which to go after dreams or do absolutely nothing if you choose. Without it you can't have a self. ~ Barbara Sher

Fight back, Laia. For Darin. For Izzi. For every Scholar this beast has abused. Fight. A scream bursts from me, and I claw at Marcus's face, but a punch to my stomach takes the wind out of my lungs. I double over, retching, and his knee comer up into my forehead. The hallway spins, and I drop to my knees. Then I hear him laughting, a sadistic chuckle that stokes my defiance.

Sluggishly, I throw myself at his legs. It won't be like before, like during the raid when I let that Mask drag me about my own house like some dead thing.

This time, I'll fight. Tooth and nail, I'll fight. ~ Sabaa Tahir

It is raining bombs on the house of the Lord. I go in fear and trembling lest one of these terrible bombers gets into difficulties. ~ Denis Diderot

Don't you think the Golden Gate Bridge looks to the East in the same way the Statue of Liberty faces Europe, the Old World?' Mike now asked. 'That the Bridge and the Statue face in opposite directions, the Bridge is the end whereas the Statue is the beginning?'
'The Golden Gate Bridge should be understood symbolically,' Foucault responded, 'in the sense that it does not go from America back to America but that it should be something that could possibly open up out of America. ~ Simeon Wade

When the bomb doors are open and you're flying straight and steady over battery upon battery of radar guided guns with ten thousand pounds of explosives and two thousand gallons of high octane petrol exposed under your seat it feels like you're dangling a piece of raw red meat to a great white shark. That's how he once described the bomb run in a letter to his father. ~ Glenn Haybittle

Lewis Mumford was not a planner, but he wrote eloquently of planning. It was a difficult task. Planning is an exercise of power, and in a modern state much real power is suffused with boredom. The agents of planning are usually boring; the planning process is boring; the implementation of plans is always boring. In a democracy boredom works for bureaucracies and corporations as smell works for skunk. It keeps danger away. Power does not have to be exercised behind the scenes. It can be open. The audience is asleep. The modern world is forged amidst our inattention. ~ Richard White

Maybe the answer is: Don't be an asshole, think before you open your trap, take responsibility for your words. Meaning, apologize when you're wrong and correct yourself moving forward - and don't constantly look for reasons to be offended and police well-meaning people's words. We want folks to talk to each other, right? Not just hang out with like-minded people all the time. Everyone is ignorant about something, and everyone is offended by something. If people can't have a calm, respectful dialogue without being hurt by ignorance, or without offending with insensitivity, then what the hell are we supposed to do? Surround ourselves with robots who don't challenge our ideas?" I ~ Penny Reid

Most people who die in fires don't burn to death; they die from smoke inhalation that kills the respiratory system. that's why the fire service is going on and on about smoke detectors. These little ten-dollar gadgets are one of the truly wonderful inventions of man. The wake you up from a deep slumber so that you and your family and your dog or cat or whatever can get out of the house in time to live and call the fire department. If this sounds like a public service announcement, it is. If you don't have one, buy one today. They make great Christmas gifts. Plus they're cheap. Give a gift of love to a loved one you love. End of announcement. ~ Larry Brown

Samantha turns toward us as we enter and her mouth drops open. "You." Pure joy floods her face like sunlight falling through storm clouds, and she runs up to me, laying hands on either side of my face as she gazes deeply into my eyes. "There you are. ~ Suzanna J. Linton

A very good drink they call Chaube that is almost as black as ink and very good in illness, especially of the stomach. This they drink in the morning early in the open places before everybody, without any fear or regard, out of clay or China cups, as hot as they can, sipping it a little at a time. ~ Leonhard Rauwolf

She [Mary Maclane] is almost always referred to as "confessional." She has been referred to, several times, as the first blogger. Whereas her writing does not confess much - it is much more spiritual memoir than anything, or perhaps something akin to a mystic's courtly love, directed at the self. I am wondering what distinguishes writing as confessional…

I keep on feeling I prefer the latter-day MacLane, the diary she wrote while convalescing from scarlet fever back home in Butte, Montana, I, Mary MacLane, that Melville House is only publishing as an ebook. Mary MacLane melancholy, totally isolated. Feeling intense disquiet. Now in her early thirties, meditating on her whirlwind celebrity, in cities, feeling distanced from all that, but longing for it too. Obsessed with the Mary MacLane who stopped writing, or stopped publishing books, who was involved with the anarchist/bohemian crowd in Chicago, with the Dill Pickle, who died in poverty and obscurity on the South Side at the age of 48. I want to write about her, but I don't know how or why yet. ~ Kate Zambreno

Proximity to the device tempted him, a muted siren's call to undress, open the coffin-like lid and climb into the lukewarm saline solution, to plug his interface jack in, sheathe his genitals in the waste catch and sink down into the glorious rush of jacking in. He missed the freefall adrenaline of consciousness translated into pure data, of his body rendered in liquid mercury, shifting and changing with his every thought. He missed the thrill of cracking databank security, of running from anti-intrusion software and other hackers. ~ Gary A. Ballard

Hunter had inherited her grandfather's house after he died at the Battle of Violet Hill. She'd spent weeks finding and dismantling all of the hidden anti-vampire booby traps. Quinn didn't find the second holy water dispenser until he took a shower and nearly died. ~ Alyxandra Harvey

Andres Segovia literally created the genre of classical guitar, which hadn't existed before around 1910. There was flamenco, which he borrowed from, but he actually arranged the works of Mozart and other classical composers for guitar, something that had never been done before ... Segovias' style is not slick or contrived, but it's still very clean and his timing is impeccable ... it's got a feeling of casual elegance, as if he's sitting around the house in Spain with a jug of wine, just playing from the heart. ~ Roger McGuinn

When I was growing up, in our house nudity was defined as the period of time between the shower and your towel. ~ Amy Cohen

There's no there. That elusive 'there' with the job, the beach house, the dream, it's not out there. There is here. It's in you ... right now. ~ Brian Kenny

I've been thinking a lot about the word "everything." Whenever something horrible happens, you hear people say they "lost everything." They lost their house or their car or their stuff or whatever, and to them it feels like everything. But they have no idea what it's like to lose everything. I thought I knew, but now I realize even I haven't lost everything, because I still have that polka-dot swimsuit in my memory. I still have those ice cream nights and the scorpion that scared Marin and the Barking Bulldogs sweatshirt and the robins-egg-blue nail polish. Somehow having those things makes the other things matter less.
I'm wondering if it's even possible to lose "everything" or if you just have to keep redefining what "everything" is. ~ Jennifer Brown

We always had 'Vogue' in our house. But, when I was around 12, my Mom finally took me seriously about modeling and put a stack of magazines in front of me, then told me to study all the poses. The ones I loved the most were in 'Vogue.' ~ Chanel Iman

I'm open to whatever people want to call me. ~ Jake Gyllenhaal

He tugged my zipper down like he was unveiling a gift, spreading my pants open. "Yeah. There it is. You have a nice fat dick. I would have never guessed it."
"I'm Italian," I said inanely. ~ L.B. Gregg

The house is still but a sort of porch at the entrance of a burrow. ~ Henry David Thoreau

it's just that i am not afraid of blood which is also part of being a girl. but being the only girl means making yourself lose when you've won too much so i bounce the coin off the rim of the shot glass and let johnny slice me open. ~ Olivia Gatwood

Don't say 'the White House wants.' Buildings can't want. ~ Donald Rumsfeld

1. I'm lonely so I do lonely things
2. Loving you was like going to war; I never came back the same.
3. You hate women, just like your father and his father, so it runs in your blood.
4. I was wandering the derelict car park of your heart looking for a ride home.
5. You're a ghost town I'm too patriotic to leave.
6. I stay because you're the beginning of the dream I want to remember.
7. I didn't call him back because he likes his girls voiceless.
8. It's not that he wants to be a liar; it's just that he doesn't know the truth.
9. I couldn't love you, you were a small war.
10. We covered the smell of loss with jokes.
11. I didn't want to fail at love like our parents.
12. You made the nomad in me build a house and stay.
13. I'm not a dog.
14. We were trying to prove our blood wrong.
15. I was still lonely so I did even lonelier things.
16. Yes, I'm insecure, but so was my mother and her mother.
17. No, he loves me he just makes me cry a lot.
18. He knows all of my secrets and still wants to kiss me.
19. You were too cruel to love for a long time.
20. It just didn't work out.
21. My dad walked out one afternoon and never came back.
22. I can't sleep because I can still taste him in my mouth.
23. I cut him out at the root, he was my favorite tree, rotting, threatening the foundations of my home.
24. The women in my family die waiting.
25 ~ Warsan Shire

My strongest memory is not a memory. It's something I imagined, then came to remember as if it had happened. The memory was formed when I was five, just before I turned six, from a story my father told in such detail that I and my brothers and sister had each conjured our own cinematic version, with gunfire and shouts. Mine had crickets. That's the sound I hear as my family huddles in the kitchen, lights off, hiding from the Feds who've surrounded the house. A woman reaches for a glass of water and her silhouette is lighted by the moon. A shot echoes like the lash of a whip and she falls. In my memory it's always Mother who falls, and she has a baby in her arms.

The baby doesn't make sense - I'm the youngest of my mother's seven children - but like I said, none of this happened. ~ Tara Westover

And in all those escapes he could not help being astonished by the beauty of this land that was not his. He his in its breast, fingered its earth for food, clung to its banks to lap water and tried not to love it. On nights when the sky was personal, weak with the weight of its own stars, he made himself not love it. Its graveyards and its low-lying rivers. Or just a house - solitary under a chinaberry tree; maybe a mule tethered and the light hitting its hide just so. Anything could stir him and he tried hard not to love it. ~ Toni Morrison

When a house is tottering to its fall,
The strain lies heaviest on the weakest part,
One tiny crack throughout the structure spreads,
And its own weight soon brings it toppling down. ~ Ovid

Clocks ticking, wasted time, reminded [Poe]
The coffin waits and pages lie half done
In desolation. Anonymity's
Curse frightens writers more than Roderick
Encountering his sister's open crypt.

- - from my poem "Poe and His Women" - - ~ LindaAnn LoSchiavo

It is nothing won to admit men with an open door, and to receive them with a shut and reserved countenance. ~ Francis Bacon

Memory is trust open to doubt. Perhaps ~ Durga Chew-Bose

Our president may lie, but he will lie effectively and spectacularly, with all the epic stagecraft and lighting and special effects available to the White House publicity apparatus. He is never a hack, never a half-assed, off-the-cuff, squirming, my-dog-ate-my-homework sort of liar. Or at least he wasn't until George W. Bush came around.

'They hate our freedoms' was possibly the dumbest, most insulting piece of bullshit ever to escape the lips of an American president. As an explanation for the appalling tragedy of 9/11... it was insufficient even as a calculated effort to snow an uneducated public. ~ Matt Taibbi

I don't have anything that I treasure at all. They're just things. I tend to buy an awful lot of stuff, like clothes and things. But I wouldn't be bothered if my house burns down tomorrow. ~ Robbie Williams

Washington has seldom seen so numerous, so industrious or so insidious a lobby. There is every evidence that money without limit is being spent to sustain this lobby ... I know that in this I am speaking for the members of the two houses, who would rejoice as much as I would to be released from this unbearable situation. ~ Woodrow Wilson

You're wearing a bow tie," I said necessarily.
He glanced over at me. "Mom said I had to dress up for this."
I heard a low snort of laughter coming through the open window above the sink.
And I knew.
I stalked over to the window and looked outside.
There, sitting spread out on the grass, were the rest of the Bennetts.
Goddamn fucking werewolves.
"Hello, Ox," Elizabeth said without a jint of shame. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
"I will deal with you late," I said.
Ooh," Carter said. "I actually got chills from that."
"We're just here for support," Kelly said. "And to laugh at how embarrassing Joe is."
"I heard that!" Joe shouted from behind me.
I banged my head on the windowsill.
"Maggie," Joe said. Then, "May I call you Maggie?"
"Sure." My mother sound like she was enjoying this. The traitor. "You can call me Maggie."
"Good," Joe glanced down at his card berfore looking back up at my mother. " There comes a time in every werewolf's life when he is of age to make certain decisions about his future."
I wondered if I threw something at him if it'd distract him enough for me to drag him out of the kitchen. I glanced over my shoulder out the window. Cater waved at me. Like an asshole.
"My future," Joe said, "is Ox."
Ah god, that made me ache. "Is that so?" Mom asked. "How do you figure?" "He's really nice," Joe said seriously. "And smells good. And he makes me happy. And I want to do nothing more t ~ T.J. Klune

Dreaming is cheap. It doesn't cost a thing. In dreams you don't have to pay the bills or pay the rent. In dreams you can buy a house and be loved back. ~ Jennifer Clement

There haven't been fundamental structural changes in America. There's been a very important symbolic change and that is the election of Barack Obama. But the only black people who truly live in a post-racial world in America all live in a very nice house on 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. ~ Henry Louis Gates

poems open doors;
that don't even exist. ~ Basith

People can open doors for you, but you ... must walk through. ~ John C. Maxwell

Be curious enough to keep an open mind to what's happening around you in society. You can look at yourself and the world at the same time. ~ Jochen Zeitz

Nevertheless, it is the Christian theory that it is only a regard for this Being -- partly a trembling fear and partly a kind of conciliation represented to be love -- that keeps the human race from roaring downhill to villainy and disaster. Nor are theologians daunted by the obvious fact that many open and even ribald skeptics are not going that way, but, on the contrary, show a considerably higher degree of virtue than the Christian average. Their answer ... is that the moral sense of every such blameless candidate for Hell 'is a kind of parasitic growth upon the otherworldliness of the society in which he lives.' ... Even men who should know better indulge in this confusion between the religious impulse and common decency. ... But this is surely going beyond the plain facts. A man may be truly religious without imagining God as good at all, and he may be good without believing that there is any moral order in the universe or even that God exists. Religion does not necessarily make men better citizens, whether of their neighborhoods or of the world. ~ H.L. Mencken

I've got to learn o take rest and shelter - here, there, anywhere - with as much composure and ease as I accept the open road. It is the basic contest between Being and Doing, focused in my life now as never before. ~ Irv Thomas

We can fend off loneliness by being accessible to those around us who are different from us… too often we try to befriend only those who reassure us of the status quo, who are exactly like us, and who may not contribute as significantly to our growth and balance. This is a wide wonderful world. Be open to all the friends and associates it has to offer. ~ Kristen M. Oaks

To Frost House," I said.
"To Frost House," they echoed.
We clunked mugs and drank, to the applause of a deep rumble of thunder. ~ Marianna Baer