Our little house was way back in the country. We had one house close to us, and hell the next one would've been a mile. If you got sick, you could holler and wouldn't nobody hear you.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
There we times when everybody in the house has the flu. You're cleaning up vomit and it's 2 in the morning, and you're wishing there was somebody else there to help you.
After having dispatched a meal, I went ashore, and found no habitation save a single house, and that without an occupant; we had no doubt that the people had fled in terror at our approach, as the house was completely furnished.
There's no place like home. And I do miss my home.
Home wasn't so much a house as people, family.
When you finally go back to your old home, you find it wasn't the old home you missed but your childhood.
It always made me sad that there were kids who didn't have homes.
There is one consolation in being sick; and that is the possibility that you may recover to a better state than you were ever in before.
Home wasn't a pleasant place to live, growing up.
I had family and friends back home. Just because I could potentially feel alone in Los Angeles, that didn't mean I was alone.
One day I'd love a house in the country, with some chickens, dogs and kids.
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