Veronica Roth Quotes

I advise everyone to find an island in this life. Find a place where this culture can't take energy away from you, sap your will and originality. Since anything physical can be mental, that island can be your home. Turn off the electromagnetic waves being forced upon you, the countless invisible forces coming at you all the time.

Excuse me if I have/some place in my mind/where I go time to time.

The ultimate comfort zone is within.

Within you there is a stillness and sanctuary to which you can retreat at any time and be yourself

We may act sophisticated and worldly but I believe we feel safest when we go inside ourselves and find home, a place where we belong and maybe the only place we really do.

For myself, solitude is rather like a folded-up forest that I carry with me everywhere and unfurl around myself when I have need.

Home is the place where you are most thoroughly yourself, with no pretenses.

I have no place left to live but in my own heart.

Well I never had a place that I could call my very own/That's all right, my love, 'cause you're my home.

James Wilkie is so conscious of the time we spend together. I try to be home to tuck him in at least four nights a week, and if I'm not, he's not letting me get away with anything. The other night I was sitting with him on the steps before Matthew and I went out to the theater, and he looked at me and said, 'Mama, this has got to stop. Go upstairs and take that dress off.'

Love is the Divine Mother's arms; when those arms are spread, every Soul falls Into them.

Music came as the best thing for me at home, where no one can tell you anything. For years I was so closed, wanting to do it exactly like I had it in my head, because this would be the only place that was superpersonal.

Home to me is when someone comes up to me and says, "Can I get a selfie?" No. It's where your wife and your family are. It's the emotional place where you feel like you're not away from it.

I feel a thread tugging me again, but this time I know that it isn’t some sinister force dragging me toward death. This time I know it’s my mother's hand, drawing me into her arms. And I go gladly into her embrace.

ought we not, from time to time, open ourselves up to cosmic sadness? ... Give your sorrow all the space and shelter in yourself that is its due, for if everyone bears his grief honestly and courageously, the sorrow that now fills the world will abate. But if you do not clear a decent shelter for your sorrow, and instead reserve most of the space inside you for hatred and thoughts of revenge-from which new sorrows will be born for others-then sorrow will never cease in this world and will multiply.

My mother didn't get home until about seven most nights and, yes, there was a sense of being very alone after school. She gave me all the proper guidance and influences, but physically, she just couldn't be there.

Home is essentially a set of values you carry around with you and, like a turtle or a snail or whatever, home has to be something that is part of you and can be equally a part of you wherever you are. I think that not having a home is a good inducement to creating a metaphysical home and to being able to see it in more invisible ways.

I do think having a mother as a nurse who's a very kind of compass - , she's so compassionate and she really unfortunately would take her work home with her sometimes.

Can you stop your mother from singing to you? Who would do such a thing?

Solitude is my element, and the reason is that extreme awareness of other people... precludes awareness of one's self so that after a while the self no longer knows that it exists.

I get home at the end of the day and I don't want to talk. All I want to do is lay on the floor and pet my dogs and my cats.

Like a child who suddenly stops sobbing when he is clasped in the arms of his mother, such will be the grip of heaven upon our souls.

Our homes do not have to offer us permanent occupancy or store our clothes to merit the name. To speak of home in relation to a building is simply to recognise its harmony with our own prized internal song. Home can be an airport or a library, a garden or a motorway diner.

He was not oppressed by a crowd because in the midst of all the hullabaloo he always found a quiet place for his soul.

From the beginning, I've stressed that home is something internal, invisible, portable, especially for those of us with roots in many physical places; we have to root ourselves in our passions, our values and our deepest friends. My home, I've always felt, lies in the songs and novels that I love, in the wife and mother that I'm never far away from, in the monastery to which I've been returning for 25 years.