Quotes & Sayings About Far Away From Home

Far away from my country I would be like those trees they chop down at Christmastime, those poor rootless pines that last a little while and then die. — Isabel Allende

I was far away from home, haunted & tired with travel, in a room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, the creak of the old wood, footsteps upstairs & all the sad sounds.
I looked at the cracked high ceiling & really didn't know who I was for about 15 strange seconds.
I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger & my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost.
I was halfway at the dividing line between the East of my youth & the West of my future. — Jack Kerouac

There are thirty kids there, too," Justineau adds. "And most of your men. What are we going to do? Just walk away from them?" "That's exactly what we're going to do," Parks tells them. "If you shut up, I'll tell you why. I've been up on that radio every ten or fifteen minutes since we stopped. Not only is there no answer from the base, there's no answer full stop. Nobody else got out of there. Or if they did, they got out without wheels or comms, which means they might just as well be on another planet as far as we're concerned. There's no way to get their attention right now without getting the junkers bouncing at us too. If we meet them on the road, that's great. Otherwise, we're alone, and the only sensible thing to do is to head for home fires. For Beacon." Caldwell — M.R. Carey

And, ah! his castle. The faery solitude of the place, with its turrets of mistly blue, its courtyard, its spiked gate, his castle that lay on the very bosom of the sea with seabirds mewing about its attics, the casements opening onto the green and purple, evanescent departures of the ocean, cut off by the tide from land for half a day ... that castle, at home neither on the land nor on the water, a mysterious, amphibious place, contravening the materiality of both earth and waves, with the melancholy of a mermaiden who perches on her rocks and waits, endlessly, for a lover who had drowned far away, long ago. That lovely, sad, sea-siren of a place. — Angela Carter

There was another reason [she] took her books whenever they went away. They were her home when she was somewhere strange. They were familiar voices, friends that never quarreled with her, clever, powerful friends
daring and knowledgeable, tried and tested adventurers who had traveled far and wide. Her books cheered her up when she was sad and kept her from being bored. — Cornelia Funke

I've had small depressions, days when I've woken up and felt sad, especially when I'm so far away from home. I've got my religion and that is my therapy, although I think it would be good for me to have someone I can talk to. But I have friends. I haven't got a therapist but maybe I should. — Beyonce Knowles

A man must generally get away some hundreds or thousands of miles from home before he can be said to begin his travels. Why not begin his travels at home? Would he have to go far or look very closely to discover novelties? The traveler who, in this sense, pursues his travels at home, has the advantage at any rate of a long residence in the country to make his observations correct and profitable. Now the American goes to England, while the Englishman comes to America, in order to describe the country. — Henry David Thoreau

It's funny. When you leave your home and wander really far, you always think, 'I want to go home.' But then you come home, and of course it's not the same. You can't live with it, you can't live away from it. And it seems like from then on there's always this yearning for some place that doesn't exist. I felt that. Still do. I'm never completely at home anywhere. — Danzy Senna

As a callow eighteen-year-old leaving for college, I'd seen my home town as a mere launching pad for a life in worldier locals, a pale to be from rather than a place to be. But years and miles away from home could never attenuate the city's hold on my identity and the more I explored places and people far from Hampton, the more my status as one of its daughters came to mean to me. — Margot Lee Shetterly

I have always swung back and forth between alienation and relatedness. As a child, I would run away from the beatings, from the obscene words, and always knew that if I could run far enough, then any leaf, any insect, any bird, any breeze could bring me to my true home. I knew I did not belong among people. Whatever they hated about me was a human thing; the nonhuman world has always loved me. I can't remember when it was otherwise. But I have been emotionally crippled by this. There is nothing romantic about being young and angry, or even about turning that anger into art. I go through the motions of living in society, but never feel a part of it. When my family threw me away, every human on earth did likewise. — Wendy Rose

Do not make your child your only hobby or you will end up waiting by the telephone in a cheery room covered in brittle, yellowed crayon drawings, regaling those few friends that are left with stale anecdotes about your youngster's accomplishments. Your little baby will be off in college, or backpacking in the Amazon, or on the other side of the country trying to get as far away from home as possible, and you will begin collecting porcelain frogs and feeding stray cats. So now is the time to start getting that life to fall back on. You know what you must do. Do it for your child. Do it for me, and for everyone out there who has to deal with your child for the rest of your child's life. And do it for yourself. — Christie Mellor

Holl?" Seth turned over. "Where you going?"
"Home. Sorry. Go back to sleep." I pulled on my sweatpants.
"But we have all night." He pushed to his elbows.
"I know. I can't." My voice sounded hoarse, hollow. "I don't feel good. I'm sorry." I lurched for the door. I needed to get out, get away. As far away from here as possible. She was in me, in my blood, invading every cell in my body. She was the one I wanted. She was the one I saw, felt, desired. This was wrong. He was wrong. It was all so wrong. (Chapter. 12) — Julie Anne Peters

It's like a feeling. Like that feeling you get when you've been away from home for far too long, and you're tired and hungry, and just fucking spent, and your car is low on gas and it's getting dark, and you're sick of cheap hotels and cheap diners and every song on the radio and every thought in your head, and all you want to do is crawl into your own bed and fall into a dead sleep . . . and then you turn the last corner, and there it is. Home. All your troubles melt away with one big sigh, and you hit the gas hard, because you just can't stay away one second longer. — J.T. Geissinger

New York feels like a sublet of Europe. And Europe is a sublet of New York. Put it that way. It's so accessible. When I was in LA, I felt so far away from my home. Home, for the moment, is here until it's not. I like to move around with my work. I feel it's a great way to learn about life, about new cultures, and to learn. We'll see where the wind takes me. — Sean Mahon

Detached gibbous moonlight,
Befalls me,
Lying still on a sandy hill,
In a place far from home.
Home, where your warm hands,
Once embraced me,
Where you suckled me at birth,
And kissed me goodnight,
Where I once played as a child.
Now bereft and solitary,
I lie still far away,
In a foreign field of sand,
They'll bring me home
To you soon,
To lay me down
In an earthen chamber,
Beneath a green patch,
Close to you, so close,
Far from the guns of war. — Richard Kinsella

Leave home. Fail marvelously, and succeed even better. Kick your feet up and wonder when you will be back. Stay out late. Make telephone calls from unfamiliar street corners. When your mother's voice comes from far away and asks where you are, squint down the road and tell her you aren't sure. Make uncertainty your home. Put the mat out for yourself. Look at your watch and think of how you're almost home. — Nick Burd

In a lifetime of hearing people celebrate weekends, she finally saw what all the fuss was about. By no means did her workload cease on Saturday, but it did shift gears. If her kids wanted to pull everything out of the laundry basket to make a bird's nest and sit in it, fine. Dellarobia could even sit in there with them and incubate, if she so desired. Household chores no longer called her name exclusively. She had an income. She'd never before understood how much her life in this little house had felt to her like confinement in a sinking vehicle after driving off a bridge ... To open a hatch and swim away felt miraculous. Working outside the home took her about fifty yards from her kitchen, which was far enough. She couldn't see the dishes in the sink. — Barbara Kingsolver

I was thinking of Cambridge, and then I got a bit homesick for a minute, 'cause I never been this far away from home before. But the I remember you're here, and now I'm not homesick no more. — J.L. Merrow

I excused myself from the conversation, walked away, and stuck my hands in my jacket pockets. I had no drink. I didn't fidget. I kept my head down and headed for the door. It wasn't that far. I just had to get by some people who wouldn't suspect a thing, because I didn't know any of them. I didn't have to grab my coat because it was still on my shoulders. If Shawn saw me, I would say I was just going for air or a smoke or something. I had been trying to quit, and he knew this, so maybe going out for air was a better excuse. Sure, it was probably eleven below, but it was crowded and he'd buy it because I'd made him believe that I'm shy. I could be out in the midnight winter chill and home within an hour. It would have been safe, and I would have been warm, and no Chinook would have hit me. — Sawyer Paul

May the good Lord be with you down every road you roam, and may sunshine and happiness surround you when you're far from home. And may you grow to be proud, dignified and true; and do unto others as you'd have done to you. Be courageous and be brave and in my heart you'll always stay forever young.
May good fortune be with you, may your guiding light be strong; build a stairway to heaven with a prince or a vagabond. And may you never love in vain and in my heart you will remain forever young.
And when you finally fly away I'll be hoping that I served you well, for all the wisdom of a lifetime no one can ever tell. But whatever road you choose, I'm right behind you, win or lose, forever young. — Rod Stewart

The only emotions coming from him were light, playful - maybe with a little resignation wrapped in there, but positive feelings flowed across out bond.
"You are amused," I said. "What was in the vial? What are you so suddenly amused?"
He tipped his head. "It's...freeing, this shift in perspective. It's all rather insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but you want this - for campus, your new home, to be happy and free. Easy enough to assist with, so here I am."
"I had to drag you here."
"It wouldn't be a game otherwise. You would have been far more skeptical had I come willingly. You'd never have brought it and I'd have been made to stand elsewhere, relegated to being good."
I looked at him, then slipped my hand around his arm and squeezed. "I'd buy it."
Bonds wrapped around me - family, fondness, and something slightly darker and more fatalistic. He squeezed my hand beneath his, then pulled away before I could identify the last feeling. — Anne Zoelle

It was so late and she'd be sleeping
He came through her home town
With the moonlight on the crossroads
And the green light shining down
And the bell at the railroad crossing
And the horn from far away
And his Silver Eagle passing
Half a mile from where she lay

At his feet a sea of faces
Make devotions with their love
Clap their hands and plead their cases
Call for blessings from above
Like the rolling waves forever massing
To crash and foam and creep away
And the Silver Eagle passing
Half a mile from where she lay

Road signs flow into the headlights
Whisper names and fall behind
He finds some honor in the darkness
Hopes for grace and peace of mind
And he thinks of how they'd lay together
He'd run his fingers through her hair
And he wonders if she'll ever
Come to know that he was there — Mark Knopfler

At least, that had been what he had thought until the night he had lost himself to Legna's wicked eyes. He had blamed it on the moon, reaffirming the weakness to himself later on when he found himself stalking the halls of Noah's home far oftener than could be explained away, always watching as Legna floated from one room to another, seemingly oblivious to him, never remaining in his sight for more than a minute at a time. — Jacquelyn Frank

PAPER TOWERS
The library was on the second floor of the House, not far from my room. It had two floors - the first held the majority of the books and a balcony wrapped in a wrought-iron railing held another set. It was a cavalcade of tomes, all in immaculate rows, and with study carrels and tables thrown in for good measure. It was my home away from home(away from home.
I walked inside and paused for a moment to breathe in the scent of paper and dust - the perfumes of knowledge. The library was empty of patrons as far as I could tell, but I could hear the rhythmic squeal of a library cart somewhere in the rows. I followed them down until I found the dark-haired vampire shelving books with mechanical precision. I knew him only as "the librarian." He was a fount of information, and he had a penchant for leaving books outside my door. — Chloe Neill

Constantly falling back into an old trap, before I am even fully aware of it, I find myself wondering why someone hurt me, rejected me, or didn't pay attention to me. Without realizing it, I find myself brooding about someone else's success, my own loneliness, and the way the world abuses me. Despite my conscious intentions, I often catch myself daydreaming about becoming rich, powerful, and very famous. All of these mental games reveal to me the fragility of my faith that I am the Beloved One on whom God's favor rests. I am so afraid of being disliked, blamed, put aside, passed over, ignored, persecuted, and killed that I am constantly developing strategies to defend myself and thereby assure myself of the love I think I need and deserve. And in so doing I move far away from my father's home and choose to dwell in a "distant country," (pp. 41 & 42). — Henri J.M. Nouwen

Daniel's face
the way it had been bathed in violet light when he'd carried her home this morning
appeared before her eyes. His gleaming golden hair. His tender, knowing eyes. The way one touch of his lips transported her far away from any darkness. For him, she'd suffer all of this, and more. — Lauren Kate

Night is done, gone the moon, gone the stars
From the skies.
Fades the black of night
Comes the morn with rosy light.
Fold your wings, go to sleep,
Rest your gizzards, Safe you'll be for the day.
Glaux is nigh.
Far away is first black,
But it shall seep back
Over field
Over flower
In the twilight hour.
We are home in our tree.
We are owls, we are free.
As we go, this we know
Glaux is nigh. — Kathryn Lasky

The craziest part of being on tour is being overseas and having crazed fans so far away from home. They don't speak English, but they still know the lyrics. That's a trip. — Tinashe

But the real show was offstage. Dozens of men lounged along the tables that circled the main attraction. They ranged from eighteen to eighty, skinny to fat, stout to lanky. I saw home in them. I saw fathers, grandfathers, brothers, boyfriends, professors, bosses, and preachers. I imagined their houses, their families, their jobs, the coffee shops where they bought breakfast pastries, the hospitals their children were born in, and their neighborhood route for their dog's morning walk. I saw the gleam in their eyes as the girls swiveled around poles, sashayed in their direction, and sat atop their laps like children visiting Santa Claus. They seemed to love their oriental dolls with a toddler's English fluency. They had their happy endings. They would soon be boarding planes, flying far away from the poverty, the mental and emotional collateral damage, and the possible babies they conceived. Thailand was theirs. It was their escape, their medicine, and their sanctuary of sin. — Maggie Young

It is a period of civil war. The spaceships of the rebels, striking swift From base unseen, have gain'd a vict'ry o'er The cruel Galactic Empire, now adrift. Amidst the battle, rebel spies prevail'd And stole the plans to a space station vast, Whose pow'rful beams will later be unveil'd And crush a planet: 'tis the DEATH STAR blast. Pursu'd by agents sinister and cold, Now Princess Leia to her home doth flee, Deliv'ring plans and a new hope they hold: Of bringing freedom to the galaxy. In time so long ago begins our play, In star-crossed galaxy far, far away. — Ian Doescher

I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was - I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn't know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost. — Jack Kerouac

Maybe that's what growing up means, in the end - you go far enough in the direction of - somewhere - and you realise that you've neutered the capacity of the term home to mean anything. [ ... ] We don't get an endless number of orbits away from the place where meaning first arises, that treasure-house of first experiences. What we learn, instead, is that our adventures secure us in our isolation. Experience revokes our licence to return to simpler times. Sooner or later, there's no place remotely like home. — Gregory Maguire

I have heard them preach, when I sat in the pew and my feet did not touch the floor, about the final home of the unconverted. In order to impress upon the children the length of time they would probably stay if they settled in that country, the preacher would frequently give us the following illustration: 'Suppose that once in a billion years a bird should come from some far-distant planet, and carry off in its little bill a grain of sand, a time would finally come when the last atom composing this earth would be carried away; and when this last atom was taken, it would not even be sun up in hell.' Think of such an infamous doctrine being taught to children! — Robert G. Ingersoll

Lonely's a temporary condition, a cloud that blocks out the sun for a spell and then makes the sunshine seem even brighter after it travels along. Like when you're far away from home and you miss the people you love and it seems like you're never going to see them again. But you will, and you do, and then you're not lonely anymore.
Lonesome's a whole other thing. Incurable. Terminal. A hole in your heart you could drive a semi truck through. So big and so deep that no amount of money or whiskey or pussy or dope in the whole goddamn world can fill it up because you dug it yourself and you're digging it still, one lie, one disappointment, one broken promise at a time. — Steve Earle

As we walked home, I knew from far away the trees would've looked nice, the grass would've looked green, and we would've looked like just a couple of boys walking home, armed with Midwest love and Bible Belt morals.

But up close, the trees were scorched, the grass was dead, and the boys were on the verge of tears with the belts of those morals tightening around their necks, threatening to hang them if they dared step off the stool of masculinity. — Tiffany McDaniel

A house should not be built so close to another that a chicken from one can lay an egg in the neighbor's yard, nor so far away that a child cannot shout to the yard of his neighbor. — Julius Nyerere

See the interlaced strands?' She touched the raised pattern with a knobby finger. 'These trace a never-ending path, leading away from home and circling back. When you wear this, you'll never be far from the place you started. — Christina Baker Kline

I really thought I wanted to be a musical-comedy star, but I lived in Phoenix and didn't want to go all the way to New York and be that far away from home. So I thought maybe I'd be a rock 'n' roll singer or an opera singer. — Sandra Bernhard

Bicycles were proclaimed morally hazardous. Until now children and youth were unable to stray very far from home on foot. Now, one magazine warned, fifteen minutes could put them miles away. Because of bicycles, it was said, young people were not spending the time they should with books, and more seriously that suburban and country tours on bicycles were "not infrequently accompanied by seductions. — David McCullough

The sun appeared between the twin spires of the cathedral as its light reflected off the crescent and star that rose out of the dome on top of the mosque. It was beautiful, and surreal. In one instant, the bells rang out from the cathedral and if I closed my eyes then I could easily imagine that I was back home in Europe, but in the next, the call to morning prayer sounded from the mosque, and it was a stark reminder of how far away I actually was from my true home. — Tucker Elliot

I tried to get as far away from home as possible after I graduated from high school because I had a hard time being a kid. — Catherine Opie

I am drawn to people that are not going to shy away from the very dark, scary stuff of the human condition and in a lot of cases people need alcohol or drugs to create poetry and poetic pose that can take you so far out there where you are still able to recognize yourself and then to bring you back home where you're not the same person you were when you left. — Anne Lamott

May your adventures bring you closer together, even as they take you far away from home. — Trenton Lee Stewart

I didn't recognize the name on the street sign. Nothing about the rural road looked familiar or friendly. Tall, imposing trees and overgrown weeds choked the front of the dilapidated home. Windows were boarded up. There was a gaping hole where the front door had been. I shivered, wanting to be far away from here ... wherever here was. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

There are many places that are not made for staying," Heckleck said. "They are too harsh, too hard, and too far away from whatever you call home. You don't root where you don't have to, unless you're unluck. — Cecil Castellucci

Being in the depths of the ocean was like being in the womb, suspended in a liquid environment, listening to my own breathing and heartbeat. Whether it was the serenity and security of being surrounded by this living liquid, or the total distraction of the adventure of the unknown which took me far away from the daily weight of the child abuse and violence at home, I sank beneath the surface, and if only for those few moments, was free. — Tom North

I wonder if this is it. If I have finally flown too far from home. I think of Ramonda and Ororo. Zuri and W'Kabi. Father and S'yan. But above all, I think of you. and I think of dying out here, of drifting out here, in search of but far away from you. — Ta-Nehisi Coates

crawling up into daddy's lap
when dad was still

DADDY

nodding my head against his chest soaking in the comfort of his heart

LISTENING

to the thump...thump
somewhere beneath muscle
and breastbone I remember his arms
their sublime

ENCIRCLING

and the shawdow of his voice
"I love you, little girl.
Put away your bad dreams.
Daddy's here"

I put them away, Until Daddy became my nightmare that one that came

HOME

from work everyday and instead
of picking me up, chased me far
far
away — Ellen Hopkins

When buying a new house ... Buy the house far enough away from school so your kids can't come home for lunch. — Phyllis Diller

Sociologists well understand that chaos at home causes violent behavior, educational failure and social alienation among children. Yet, many of us in America stay far, far away from this topic. That in itself is a national scandal. Bad parenting is gravely harming this nation. — Bill O'Reilly

The more men I kill, the more far away from home I feel
Saving Private Ryan — Tom Hanks

I explain to my patients that abused children often find it hard to disentangle themselves from their dysfunctional families, whereas children grow away from good, loving parents with far less conflict. After all, isn't that the task of a good parent, to enable the child to leave home? — Irvin D. Yalom

If you love home - and even if you don't - there is nothing quite as cozy, as comfortable, as delightful, as that first week back. That week, even the things that would irritate you - the alarm waahing from some car at three in the morning; the pigeons who come to clutter and cluck on the windowsill behind your bed when you're trying to sleep in - seem instead reminders of your own permanence, of how life, your life, will always graciously allow you to step back inside of it, no matter how far you have gone away from it or how long you have left it. — Hanya Yanagihara

the thirteenth-century mystic Jelaluddin Rumi, reject orthodoxy of any kind: I hold to no religion or creed, am neither Eastern nor Western, Muslim or infidel, Zoroastrian, Christian, Jew or Gentile. I come from neither land nor sea, am not related to those above or below, was not born nearby or far away, do not live either in Paradise or on this Earth, claim descent not from Adam and Eve or the Angels above. I transcend body and soul. My home is beyond place and name. It is with the beloved, in a space beyond space. — Stephen Kinzer

South Africa used to seem so far away. Then it came home to me. It began to signify the meaning of white hatred here. That was what the sheets and the suits and the ties covered up, not very well. That was what the cowardly guys calling me names from their speeding truck wanted to happen to me, to all of me: to my people. That was what would happen to me if I walked around the corner into the wrong neighborhood. That was Birmingham. That was Brooklyn. That was Reagan. That was the end of reason. South Africa was how I came to understand that I am not against war; I am against losing the war. — June Jordan

At Last It's a perfect winter day. No wind. No Arctic freeze. Cloudless azure sky. A day to fly. Snow drapes the mountain like ermine, fabulous feather- light powder coaxing me to flee the confines of my room, brave the mostly plowed road up to the closest ski resort. To run from the cloying silence connected Mom and Dad, into encompassing stillness far away from city dirt and noise Far above suburban gridlock. Far beyond the grasp of home. — Ellen Hopkins

Running away is futile. Even if you run very far away from home to a remote mountain monastery, as long as you carry the same attitude you've always had, you'll never truly get away. You'll just end up transferring all the stuff from home onto the other people at the monastery ...
Lots of people run away from responsibilities to "find themselves." But not so many of them have a real commitment to the truth. It would be better to find the truth in the life you're living, with the responsibilities you've already accepted. Responsibilities have a way of finding you, even if you run away from them. — Brad Warner

I had made a vow to never stay in my home state to play, I wanted to go as far East Coast as possible, more or less to get away from my family life. I ended up staying in my home state and fell in love with it. I ended up having a beautiful relationship with my family over time and it was the best decision I've ever made. — Hope Solo

Addiction" might be the best word to explain the lostness that so deeply permeates society. Our addiction make us cling to what the world proclaims as the keys to self-fulfillment: accumulation of wealth and power; attainment of status and admiration; lavish consumption of food and drink, and sexual gratification without distinguishing between lust and love. These addictions create expectations that cannot but fail to satisfy our deepest needs. As long as we live within the world's delusions, our addictions condemn us to futile quests in "the distant country," leaving us to face an endless series of disillusionments while our sense of self remains unfulfilled. In these days of increasing addictions, we have wandered far away from our Father's home. The addicted life can aptly be designated a life lived in "a distant country." It is from there that our cry for deliverance rises up. — Henri J.M. Nouwen

Apparently she got stranded out at sea again this time. It happens to her every time she goes to an ocean. She just bobs along on her back enjoying the sun and the undulating waves and then gets too far out and can't get back and has to be rescued. She doesn't panic at all, just sort of slowly drifts away from shore and waits to be noticed or missed. Her big thing is going out beyond the wake where it's calm and she can bob in the moonlight far out at sea. That's her biggest pleasure. Our family is trying to escape everything all at once, even gravity, even the shoreline. We don't even know what we're running away from. Maybe we're just restless people. Maybe we're adventurers. Maybe we're terrified. Maybe we're crazy. Maybe Planet Earth is not our real home. — Miriam Toews

I am alone this evening, and I am alone because of a cruel twist of fate, a phrase which here means that nothing has happened the way I thought it would. Once I was a content man, with a comfortable home, a successful career, a person I loved very much, and an extremely reliable typewriter, but all of those things have been taken away from me, and now the only trace I have of those happy days is the tattoo on my left ankle. As I sit in this very tiny room, printing these words with a very large pencil, I feel as if my whole life has been nothing but a dismal play, presented just for someone else's amusement, and that the playwright who invented my cruel twist of fate is somewhere far above me, laughing and laughing at his creation. — Lemony Snicket

I made a real specific decision when I came out of school and most artists were writing about home - if you were a woman, you were writing about being a woman - and I decided not to do that, write about what you know. That's not what I do. I went as far away from home as possible in terms of the development of my imagination. — Anna Deavere Smith

A life without a vision is like a kite let loose; it is directed by the forces that be, never giving even the slightest of resistance to life's pressures, eventually ending up far away from home (that comfortable place). — Innocent Mwatsikesimbe

Tell me, Miss Hathaway ... what would you do if you were invited on a midnight ride across the earth and ocean? Would you choose the adventure, or stay safely at home?"
She couldn't seem to tear her gaze from his. The topaz eyes were lit by a glint of playfulness, not the innocent mischief of a boy, but something far more dangerous. She could almost believe he might actually change form and appear beneath her window one night, and carry her away on midnight wings ...
"Home, of course," she managed in a sensible tone. "I don't want adventure."
"I think you do. I think in a moment of weakness, you might surprise yourself."
"I don't have moments of weakness. Not that kind, at any rate."
His laughter curled around her like a drift of smoke. "You will. — Lisa Kleypas

Away from the goal
Far away I stand from my home.
A home unknown
Where my heart and spirit must go

Thy guidance oh Lord
Thy guidance oh lord
Eternal eternity I beseech
that You will lead me to the goal


Away from victory
far away I stand from victory
Victory unknown; thy spirit divine I know
that You may lead me where I must go


Thy guidance oh Lord
Thy guidance oh lord
Victorious victory I beseech
that You will lead me to a victorious victory

Away from the troubles of life
far away from the troubles; my delight
that You will lead me with thy light
Thy light that rekindles my night


Thy guidance oh Lord
Thy guidance oh lord
Far away from the troubles I beseech
That You will lead me from the troubles of life with Thy light — Ernest Agyemang Yeboah

And God said, Let there be light. God said that, Saul, and He has come from so far away, and His home is gone, but His purpose remains. Would you deny Him His new kingdom? — Jeff VanderMeer

To the former child migrants, who came to Australia from a home far away, led to believe this land would be a new beginning, when only to find it was not a beginning, but an end, an end of innocence - we apologise and we are sorry. To the mothers who lost the maternal right to love and care for their child - we apologise, and we are sorry. — Malcolm Turnbull

Unfamiliar insects produced a soft but insistent chirp; a crisp whir like the sound the earth itself might make rolling through the darkness if we all kept quiet enough to hear it. The lights of the condominium complex shone. They were not far away. Still, they looked almost too real and close to touch. They were like holes punched in the night, leaking light from another, more animated world. For a moment I could imagine what it would be like to be a ghost - to walk forever through a silence deeper than silence, to apprehend but never quite reach the lights of home. — Michael Cunningham

Only, this was the thing: you'd provided me with the possibility of getting away from myself and making myself at home in another world. You were like a messenger from that world. With you, I could give my real self a rest. You were part and parcel of that dissolving of reality - myself included - that I'd been working on for seven or eight years through writing. For me, you were the herald out in front who showed me how to put the menacing world on hold. In that world I was a refugee whose existence was not legitimate, whose future never went beyond the three months of a temporary visa. I had no desire to come back to earth. I'd found a refuge in a magical experience and I wasn't about to let it get dragged down into reality. As far back as I can remember, I'd always sought not to exist. You've had to work for years on end to get me to accept the fact that I do exist. And I really don't think your work is over yet. — Andre Gorz

Europe has another meaning for me. Every time I mention that word, I see the Bosnian family in front of me, living far away from whatever they call home and eating their own wonderful food because that's all that is left for them. The fact remains that after fifty years, it was possible to have another war in Europe; that it was possible to change borders; that genocide is still possible even today. — Slavenka Drakulic

It's only now, when a few thousand kilometres will insulate us against deceit, lies and underhandedness and we very probably won't see each other for a long time, that I feel really close to you once more. Only far away from you am I really at home with myself, only far away from you can I dare to open my heart without losing myself. — Alex Capus

Well I come from a land,
from a far away place, where the caravan camels roam.
They will cut of your ear if they don't like your face,
it's babaric, but hey,
it's home. — Walt Disney Company

What I would do, to myself or anyone else, for the chance to go back home? But no one is there. No one I care about. They're gone, protected, far away. Home is no longer the place we're from. Home is safe with them. I hope. — Victoria Aveyard

The tomb of Adam! How touching it was, here in a land of strangers, far away from home, and friends, and all who cared for me, thus to discover the grave of a blood relation. — Mark Twain

Now, ten or more years later, far away from her home or even any thought of having a home, she again touched the feeling from that long ago day, being alone but not lonely, of being solitary yet sufficient. — Tad Williams

My father says you remember the smell of your country no matter where you are but only recognize it when you're far away. — Aglaja Veteranyi