home

But our back is to legends and we are coming home. I suppose this is the first taste of it.''There is a long road yet,' said Gandalf.'But it is the last road,' said Bilbo.

The stars are far brighterThan gems without measure,The moon is far whiterThan silver in treasure;The fire is more shiningOn hearth in the gloamingThan gold won by mining,So why go a-roaming?

When we__e been travelling around I__e often thought: Oh, this would be a good place to be, and that would be an excellent place to live. And yet, after I__e seen everything I__e decided that home, wherever that may be, is the place for feelings of peace. And if I can be at peace with myself then that is the most important thing. I think travelling teaches one that.

O enchanted land of my childhood, a cultural petri dish from which regularly issues forth greatness. New Jersey, in case you didn't know it, has got beaches. And they're not all crawling with roid-raging trolls with reality shows. I grew up summering on those beaches and they are awesome. Jersey's got farmland, beautiful bedroom communities where that woman from "Real Housewives" who looks like Dr. Zaius does not live nor anyone like her. Even the refineries, the endless cloverleaves of turnpikes and expressway twisting and unknowable patterns over the wetlands that are to me somehow beautiful. To know Jersey is to love her.

Do you know what the luckiest thing is?___o.___t is to be at home everywhere.

I think about what the man at the Coney joint said. He was right. We are the people who stay. We stay in our homes and pay them off. We stay at our jobs. We do our thirty and come home to stay even more. We stay until we are no longer able to mow our lawns and our gutters sag with saplings, until our houses look haunted to the neighborhood children. We like it where we are. I guess then the other question is: Why do we even travel? There can only be one answer to that: we travel to appreciate home. (p.97)

Those who don't belong to any specific place can't, in fact, return anywhere.

Nothing brings home closer than going home...

It__ funny. When you leave your home and wander really far, you always think, __ want to go home._ But then you come home, and of course it__ not the same. You can__ live with it, you can__ live away from it. And it seems like from then on there__ always this yearning for some place that doesn__ exist. I felt that. Still do. I__ never completely at home anywhere.

Whenever you go on a trip to visit foreign lands or distant places, remember that they are all someone's home and backyard.

You haven't really been anywhere until you've got back home.

Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.

I suspected, however, that I wasn't homesick for anything I would find at home when I returned. The longing was for what I wouldn't find: the past and all the people and places there were lost to me.

Where you come from does matter -- but not nearly as much as where you are headed.

I knew then that I wanted to go home, but I had no home to go to--and that is what adventures are all about.

When one is traveling, everything looks brighter and lovelier. That does not mean it IS brighter and lovelier; it just means that sweet, kindly home suffers in comparison to tarted-up foreign places with all their jewels on.

Travel does not exist without home....If we never return to the place we started, we would just be wandering, lost. Home is a reflecting surface, a place to measure our growth and enrich us after being infused with the outside world.

Life is a gift, so appreciate it. Love is abundant, so share it.Enthusiasm is infectious, so spread it.Kindness is divine, so embody it.Peace is the only way, so embrace it.The earth is your home, so take care of it. Life is for happiness, so enjoy it.