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Wherever I am, I am home.
Home is the place where you are who you want to be. The only home is the home for the soul. One feels allegiance to this or that place because they have appreciated so much beauty there, though they would have appreciated such beauty anywhere. One feels bound to the place of their birth because they are bound to their memories, but the storehouse of our memories never ceases to be added to, and our first 20 years will be replaced by our next 20, and our first 40 by yet another 40.
To blood we feel bound because blood was first to arrive and shares some of our qualities. But as Mr. Hyde was Dr. Jekyll’s badness incarnate, so too can family be a purer example of our worst qualities. We try daily to improve and to cast off our shortcomings, why not do so when the case has been made both more severe and all the easier to separate from by its manifestation in distinct bodies?
Soil is soil, and sky is sky. We shall find both just the same wherever we go. Our moral geography is the only relevant environment. They say but you cannot see the stars in the city, but I have a group of friends here that are a constellation shining brighter than any in the night sky. They say but how can you endure the cold, but just as on the chilliest days it is only my extremities that become cold to the touch, while my heart-housing torso remains constantly warm, so…
