When I was three years old, we moved into a little house and my mother set about cleaning. I watched. Her broom disrupted seemingly animated toys that scuttled out from under the bed.

I wanted to keep them.

``No," said my mother. ``They're just dirt. Lint balls."

``I could play with them. They look like animals."

--Lynda Sexson, Ordinarily Sacred

I dwell in a lonely house I know
That vanished many summers ago,
And left no trace but the cellar walls,
And a cellar in which the daylight falls
--Robert Frost, Ghost House

Sonny sits by his window and thinks to himself
How it's strange that some rooms are like cages
Sonny's yearbook from high school
Is down from the shelf
And he idly thumbs through the pages.
--Paul Simon, The Obvious Child


[ at home ]

Home Dreams

The sweetness of many things form that time still stirs and touches me with melancholy: dark and well-lighted alleys, houses and towers, chimes and faces, rooms rich and comfortable, warm and relaxed, rooms pregnant with secrets. Everything bears the scent of warm intimacy, servant girls, household remedies, and dried fruit.
--Hermann Hesse, Demian
How in fact did they pass, my childhood and boyhood, in that great house with its ground-floor rooms where my father conducted his business, while my mother sat upstairs dreaming in an armchair so softly and pensively playing the piano, and my two sisters, who were two and three years older than me, busied themselves in the kitchen or with the household linen? I can remember so little about it all.
--Thomas Mann, The Joker

He had grown up in the Middle West, in a house dug out of the ground, with windows just at earth level and just at eye level. so that from without, the house was a mere mound, no more a human stronghold than a grave, and from within, the prefect horizontality of the world in that place foreshortened the view so severely that the horizon seemed to circumscribe the sod house and nothing more.
--Marilynne Robinson, Housekeeping

No one is more attached to his home than myself, and none among you is so grieved to leave it... In my boyhood days I have chased the buffalo across the prairies, and hunted the elk in the groves; but where are they now? Long since they have left us...
--Senachwine, Potowatami elder


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