God walks among the pots and pans.

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

Men are merriest when they are from home.

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

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

The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.

I quit life as from an inn, not as from a home.

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

Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.

In the matter of furnishing, I find a certain absence of ugliness far worse than ugliness.

Every man has a lurking wish to appear considerable in his native place.

An American will build a house in which to pass his old age and sell it before the roof is on.

Every house: temple, empire, school.