You Can Never Go Home

XL. Into my heart on air that kills

INTO my heart on air that kills

  From yon far country blows:

What are those blue remembered hills,

  What spires, what farms are those?

 

That is the land of lost content,

  I see it shining plain,

The happy highways where I went

  And cannot come again.

A. E. Housman (1859–1936).  A Shropshire Lad.  1896.

 

Be happy with where you are.  This is home.

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2 thoughts on “You Can Never Go Home

  1. Amen! Reminds me of something I once heard: “Everywhere I go, there I am.” As full-time RVers, we live this sentiment. In restaurants, for example, when a server asks where we’re from we’ll say, “We’re your town’s newest residents. For a little while, anyway.”

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