Many a man who thinks to found a home discovers that he has merely opened a tavern for his friends.

The home is a human institution. All human institutions are open to improvement.

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

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

Hospitality consists in a little fire, a little food, and an immense quiet.

Men are merriest when they are from home.

It’s your business when your neighbor’s wall is in flames.

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

God walks among the pots and pans.

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