Smyers Home Quotes

The Kennedy home was a place of much action and laughter, a lively, brawling mob of children overseen by a mother who knew when to look the other way. ~ James David Barber

I've loved you since the day Lou brought you home. I hated myself, but I couldn't stop the way I felt. I never would have touched you, I never would have told you. But when you kissed me that night, you suddenly handed me everything I'd ever wanted. ~ Jennifer Skully

When I won the Derby on Never Say Die I went home and cut the lawn. I haven't cut the lawn since. ~ Lester Piggott

There is just no comparison between having a dinner date with a man and staying home playing canasta with the girls. ~ Marilyn Monroe

In my childhood there was every year at my old home, Roxborough, or, as it is called in Irish, Cregroostha, a great sheep-shearing that lasted many days. On the last evening there was always a dance for the shearers and their helpers, and two pipers used to sit on chairs placed on a corn-bin to make music for the dance. ~ Lady Gregory

Your Egnlish is so atrocious I don't feel the need to even respond' seems but a long-winded way of saying, 'Home-schooled dumbass. ~ George Takei

And isn't that weird? Think about this, when you're born, you nurse on your mama. And then you get a little older, you go to applesauce. And then you see these toddlers walking around with these Ziploc baggies full of Cheerios. Then you get to be my age, and the doctor wants you to start eating Cheerios to watch your cholesterol. Then you lose your teeth, you go to applesauce. I now know why old men like women with really big boobs. They see a trend. I mean, they call it a nursing home, hello. ~ Bill Engvall

The last thing I remember ia an exquisitely beautiful green and silver moth landing on the curve of my wrist. The sound of rain on the roof of our house gently pulls me toward consciousness. I fight to return to sleep though, wrapped in a warm cocoon of blankets, safe at home. I'm vaguely aware that my head aches. Possibly I have the flu and this is why I'm allowed to stay in bed, even though I can tell I've been asleep a long time. My mother's hand strokes my cheek and I don't push is away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don't trust her. Then there's a voice, the wrong voice, not my mother's and i'm scared. ~ Suzanne Collins

My only real contact with what my father did was that he could get 16-millimeter prints, so every weekend we would show two or three movies at home. But our house wasn't frequented by stars. My father's personal life was his personal life, and it was separate from his professional life. ~ Stanley R. Jaffe

A mother's death also means the loss of the consistent, supportive family system that once supplied her with a secure home base, she then has to develop her self-confidence and self-esteem through alternate means. Without a mother or mother-figure to guide her, a daughter also has to piece together a female self-image of her own. ~ Hope Edelman

One of the greatest myths of addiction is that it's interesting. There is a slight glamour in the beginning, a feeling of doing something wrong, of indulging in a weird world populated by ghosts who used to be struggling musicians but don't make music anymore, or writers who never write. And then your whole life is getting high and being numb, and there's absolutely no reason to leave your bed except to get more money. Your life becomes a triangle of elemental needs: get money, get drugs, get home. ~ Jade Sharma

We - each of us - are intricately, irremovably connected to the larger universe. It is our true home, and thinking that this physical world is all that matters is like shutting oneself up in a small closet and imagining that there is nothing else out beyond it. ~ Eben Alexander

I thought about it a lot (losing the 2002 NLCS). It's something you have to go home and wrap it up because if you keep thinking about it, you're going to take that to Spring Training and you're not going to be able to concentrate on your work. ~ Albert Pujols

WALLY: . . . That may be why I never understand what's going on at a party, and I'm always completely confused. I mean, we'll come home, and Debby will describe some incredible incident, and I won't have even noticed it. Everything passes in a kind of trance. You know, Debby once said after one of these New York evenings that she thought she'd traveled a greater distance just by journeying from her origins in the suburbs of Chicago to that New York evening than her grandmother had traveled in making her way from the steppes of Russia to the suburbs of Chicago. ~ Wallace Shawn

She's not mine, you sick fuck. She's not some piece of fucking property you only respect because she belongs to another man. You respect her because she's a fucking woman who deserves to take a train home without being harassed by assholes like you. ~ Alexa Martin

Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home for wearing what you like. ~ George Ade

I told him the story of the day I'd been mending pottery with one of the maids in the kitchen at Keramzin, waiting for him to return from one of the hunting trips that had taken him from home more and more frequently. I'd been fifteen, standing at the counter, vainly trying to glue together the jagged pieces of a blue cup. When I saw him crossing the fields, I ran to the doorway and waved. He caught sight of me and broke into a jog.
I had crossed the yard to him slowly, watching him draw closer, baffled by the way my heart was skittering around in my chest. Then he'd picked me up and swung me in a circle, and I'd clung to him, breathing in his sweet, familiar smell, shocked by how much I'd missed him. Dimly, I'd been aware that I still had a shard of that blue cup in my hand, that it was digging into my palm, but I didn't want to let go.
When he finally set me down and ambled off into the kitchen to find his lunch, I had stood there, my palm dripping in blood, my head still spinning, knowing that everything had changed.
Ana Kuya had scolded me for getting blood on the clean kitchen floor. She'd bandaged my hand and told me it would heal. But I knew it would just go on hurting. ~ Leigh Bardugo

I dedicate this work to Vasily Arkhipov, the deputy commander of a Soviet nuclear submarine off the Cuban shore who said no to his comrades and may have saved the world. That was on October 27, 1962, around the time my father came home from his defense job and told me at the doorstep to our house that there was "only a twenty-percent chance, son" the next day would never come. No terrorist action today remotely poses that kind of existential threat for our world, and I hope you'll keep that in mind in reading on. ~ Scott Atran

His voice was like a fire, driving out the cold. Bringing her home. ~ Kristen Ciccarelli

In a society that is essentially designed to organize, direct, and gratify mass impulses, what is there to minister to the silent zones of man as an individual? Religion? Art? Nature? No, the church has turned religion into standardized public spectacle, and the museum has done the same for art. The Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls have been looked at so much that they've become effete, sucked empty by too many stupid eyes. What is there to minister to the silent zones of man as an individual? How about a cold chicken bone on a paper plate at midnight, how about a lurid lipstick lengthening or shortening at your command, how about a Styrofoam nest abandoned by a 'bird' you've never known, how about a pair of windshield wipers pursuing one another futilely while you drive home alone through a downpour, how about something beneath a seat touched by your shoe at the movies, how about worn pencils, cute forks, fat little radios, boxes of bow ties, and bubbles on the side of a bathtub? Yes, these are the things, these kite strings and olive oil cans and Valentine hearts stuffed with nougat, that form the bond between the autistic vision and the experiential world, it is to show these things in their true mysterious light that is the purpose of the moon. ~ Tom Robbins

God walked out the book to walk into the temple..
And I walked back home..
For the Book had Rules and Temples had timings... ~ Abha Maryada Banerjee

In a Society becoming steadily more privatized with private homes, cars, computers, offices and shopping centers, the public component of our lives is disappearing. It is more and more important to make the cities inviting, so we can meet our fellow citizens face to face and experience directly through our senses. Public life in good quality public spaces is an important part of a democratic life and a full life. ~ Jan Gehl

Mainstream cinema raises questions only to immediately provide an answer to them, so they can send the spectator home reassured. If we actually had those answers, then society would appear very different from what it is. ~ Michael Haneke

Christianity has so much taken roots among us that drunkards sing gospel songs on their way home ~ Bangambiki Habyarimana

My father showed me so much love. He showed my brother so much love. He just, he had a rough life. You know, he grew up in a boys home in the Bronx. He didn't really know his own family. So I couldn't hold it against him that he didn't know how to parent. He didn't know how to be the perfect husband. But he loved as much as he could. ~ Hope Solo

Democrats can cackle all they want about the gaffe-prone Romney's elitist cultural insensitivity in Jerusalem. Their hero Obama is no more willing to acknowledge and question the racial Darwinism that substitutes culture for genes than he is to recognize and criticize Israel's racist oppression of the Palestinians. He at once embodies, epitomizes, and embraces that cultural white supremacism in a way that does no small damage to non-white prospects at home and abroad. ~ Paul Street

Love, the great, the strong, the conquering god
Love that subdues a world, and rides roughshod over principle, virtue, tradition, over home, kindred, and religion
what cares he for the easy conquest of the pathetic being, who appeals to his sympathy?
Love means equality
the same height of heroism or of sin. When Love stoops to pity, he has ceased to soar in the boundless space, that rarefied atmosphere wherein man feels himself made at last truly in the image of God. ~ Emmuska Orczy

The undergarments were plain-and folded. Who folded their undergarments? Celeana thought of her enormous closet back home, exploding with colour and different fabrics and patterns, all tossed together. Her undergarments, while expensive, usually wound up in a heap in their drawer. Sam, probably, folded his undergarments. Though, depending on how much of him Arobynn left intact, he might not be able to now. Arobynn would never permanently main her, but Sam might have faired worse. Sam had always been the expendable one. ~ Sarah J. Maas

I don't buy art. I'd rather buy a beautiful location or a beautiful site than buy art. A beautiful home is like owning a beautiful painting, except you can live in it. ~ Millard Drexler

Just rest and soon enough, you'll be home. I assured her as she slowly closed her eyes and the smile on her face faded. ~ Grace Fiorre

In home life contentment is an essential to daily comfort. One discontented person in the house creates an atmosphere fatal to tranquillity. ~ Margaret Elizabeth Sangster

For most visitors to Manhattan, both foreign and domestic, New York is the Shrine of the Good Time. "I don't see how you stand it," they often say to the native New Yorker who has been sitting up past his bedtime for a week in an attempt to tire his guest out. "It's all right for a week or so, but give me the little old home town when it comes to living." And, under his breath, the New Yorker endorses the transfer and wonders himself how he stands it. ~ Robert Benchley

People who have good relationships at home are more effective in the marketplace. ~ Zig Ziglar

I wanted to be a success on the stage, the screen, or the radio. So I saved my money and when I had bus fare and $16.82 over, I told my mother, Clara, I was going to leave home. She was heartbroken, but she believed in me. ~ Carole Landis