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Those whose goal it is to sell domestic dwellings hope to persuade their patsies that a house and a home are identical, and thus a ...

Paul Fussell

houses and homes

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... bringing up daughters for nothing but marriage, mingles poison in the cup of domestic life, is traitorous to the virtue of bot ...

Harriot K. Hunt

marriage: undesirability | education of females

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Simplicity of life, even the barest, is not a misery, but the very foundation of refinement; a sanded floor and whitewashed walls ...

William Morris

simplicity

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If men lived like men indeed, their houses would be temples--temples which we should hardly dare to injure, and in which it would ...

John Ruskin

houses and homes

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Suppose these houses are composed of ourselves,
So that they become an impalpable town, full of ...

Wallace Stevens

houses | self

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If men will believe it, sua si bona norint, there are no more quiet Tempes, nor more poetic and Arcadian lives, than may be lived ...

Henry David Thoreau

New England and New Englanders | architecture

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On the thirty-first day of March, one hundred and forty-two years before this, probably about this time in the afternoon, there we ... re hurriedly paddling down this part of the river, between the pine woods which then fringed these banks, two white women and a boy, who had left an island at the mouth of the Contoocook before daybreak. They were lightly clad for the season, in the English fashion, and handled their paddles unskillfully, but with nervous energy and determination, and at the bottom of their canoe lay the still bleeding scalps of ten of the aborigines. They were Hannah Dustan, and her nurse, Mary Neff,... and an English boy, named Samuel Lennardson, escaping from captivity among the Indians. On the 15th of March previous, Hannah Dustan had been compelled to rise from childbed, and half dressed, with one foot bare, accompanied by her nurse, commence an uncertain march, in still inclement weather, through the snow and the wilderness. She had seen her seven elder children flee with their father, but knew not of their fate. She had seen her infant's brains dashed out against an apple tree, and had left her own and her neighbors' dwellings in ashes. When she reached the wigwam of her captor, situated on an island in the Merrimack, more than twenty miles above where we now are, she had been told that she and her nurse were soon to be taken to a distant Indian settlement, and there made to run the gauntlet naked.... Having determined to attempt her escape, she instructed the boy to inquire of one of the men, how he should dispatch an enemy in the quickest manner, and take his scalp. "Strike 'em there," said he, placing his finger on his temple, and he also showed him how to take off the scalp. On the morning of the 31st she arose before daybreak, and awoke her nurse and the boy, and taking the Indians' tomahawks, they killed them all in their sleep, excepting one favorite boy, and one squaw who fled wounded with him to the woods. The English boy struck the Indian who had given him the information, on the temple, as he had been directed. They then collected all the provision they could find, and took their master's tomahawk and gun, and scuttling all the canoes but one, commenced their flight to Haverhill, distant about sixty miles by the river. But after having proceeded a short distance, fearing that her story would not be believed if she should escape to tell it, they returned to the silent wigwam, and taking off the scalps of the dead, put them into a bag as proofs of what they had done, and then, retracing their steps to the shore in the twilight, recommenced their voyage.

Henry David Thoreau

Dustan, Hannah | violence

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I have not read of any Arcadian life which surpasses the actual luxury and serenity of these New England dwellings. For the outwar ...

Henry David Thoreau

New England and New Englanders | architecture

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screenwriter
Manchester was the residence of John Stark, a hero of two wars, and survivor of a third, and at his death the la ...

Henry David Thoreau

Stark, General John | heroes and heroism | graveyards

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As I walked on the glacis I heard the sound of a bagpipe from the soldiers' dwellings in the rock, and was further soothed and aff ...

Henry David Thoreau

soldiers | war | Army, British

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