Home is where you hang your hangover.
Home is where somebody notices when you are no longer there.
Home is where one starts from.
He is happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace in his home.
Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, There's no place like home.
Gos bless America, my home sweet home.
Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one.
There's something that happens to you when you come back to your hometown.
It's not necessary to go far and wide. I mean, you can really find exciting and inspiring things within your hometown.
If our children have the background of a godly, happy home and this unshakable faith that the Bible is indeed the Word of God, they will have a foundation that the forces of hell cannot shake.
You can never go home again, but the truth is you can never leave home, so it's all right.
There's no place like home, there's no place like home
Home is where you hang your architect.
Where is home? Home is where the heart can laugh without shyness. Home is where the heart's tears can dry at their own pace.
To be happy at home is the ultimate result of all ambition, the end to which every enterprise and labor tends, and of which every desire prompts the prosecution.
There is no feeling like coming home after danger.
No matter what happens to me and my career in the future, Berlin is always going to be my hometown.
God bless America, land that I love, Stand beside her, and guide her, Through the night, with the light from above, From the mountains, to the prairies To the oceans, white with foam God bless America, my home sweet home, God bless America! My Home Sweet Home!
Home sweet home. No place like home. Take me home, country roads. Home is where the heart is. But my heart is here. So I must be home. Clare sighs, turns her head, and is quiet. Hi, honey. I'm home. I'm home.
God bless America, land that I love. Stand beside her, and guide her through the night with a light from above.
I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.
Nature is not a place to visit. It is home.
Yet dearer still that Irish hill than all the world beside; It's home, sweet home, where'er I roam, through lands and waterswide.
Besides, you think I'm not used to hurting? For me, it's home sweet home, my brother.
God bless America, land that I love.
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