Home is where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.
My home is not a place, it is people.
Not all books are created equal, and for the special ones, you begin to know it sometimes even before the work is finished, but always by the time you slam that last line home and shriek, Done! Done, and fall head-down across your keyboard like the runner from Marathon.
Total strangers trying to kill me make me feel right at home.
You must go home eventually. I would throw myself off a precipice first, except that I would land in the arms of the gods, Whom I do not wish to see again.