Quotes About Comfort

I love to snuggle up on the sofa wrapped in my duvet watching old black and white films, and catching up with friends and family on the phone.

I love nice things - I consider Ralph Lauren sheets to be a necessity, not a luxury - but I've known what it's like to be poor.

Home. Wow. I'm already calling it home. Well, isn't that what any place is? Any place that you share with someone you love, I mean?

Just the act of sleeping beside someone you liked to be with. Maybe that was love.

I just love to go home, no matter where I am, the most luxurious hotel suite in the world, I love to go home.

I love domestic life.

Whom God loves, his house is sweet to him.

I love wearing trackies to lounge around the house in and the strange thing is, it doesn't matter how many new ones I get I still tend to feel most comfortable in my old ones.

Of all the things that make for happiness, the love of books comes first. No matter how the world may have used us, sure solace lies there.

My dear, marriage isn't all a matter of falling in love and living happily ever after. Liking is as important as loving in its way; feeling comfortable with each other is important too—and friendship. Add these things up and you have the kind of love which makes a happy marriage.

Her mother had said the words she longed to hear. Her mother could not get along without her. She felt warm, and safe and comforted.

carpet tickling the bottoms of their feet and their nosegays

you can't put that boy and his dog off in the rain.

It should have been enough. He should have been content to stay home without venturing out into the world looking for speed and excitement. Outside in the hall Ralph heard

Maybe when things start to change, you want to hold on to something familiar.

I ordered a coffee and a little something to eat and savored the warmth and dryness. Somewhere in the background Nat King Cole sang a perky tune. I watched the rain beat down on the road outside and told myself that one day this would be twenty years ago.

I sat on a toilet watching the water run thinking what an odd thing tourism is. You fly off to a strange land, eagerly abandoning all the comforts of home and then expend vast quantities of time and money in a largely futile effort to recapture the comforts you wouldn't have lost if you hadn't left home in the first place.

The greatest possible irony would be if in our endless quest to fill our lives with comfort and happiness we created a world that had neither.

We are so used to having a lot of comfort in our lives—to being clean, warm, and well fed—that we forget how recent most of that is. In fact, achieving these things took forever, and then they mostly came in a rush.

A plumped feather bed may have looked divine, but occupants quickly found themselves sinking into a hard, airless fissure between billowy hills. Support was on a lattice of ropes, which could be tightened with a key when they began to sag (hence the expression sleep tight).

Occasionally, he would exclaim over a view or regard with admiration some passing marvel of nature, but mostly to him hiking was a tiring, dirty, pointless slog between distantly spaced comfort zones.

hiking was a tiring, dirty, pointless slog between distantly spaced comfort zones.

It was made completely of cast iron except for doors and floorboards—a design that would have given it all the charm and comfort of a cooking pot.

I only have one wrinkle and I'm sitting on it.