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“This unhoused, exiled Satan was perhaps the heavenly patron of all exiles, all unhoused people, all those who were torn from their place and left floating, half-this, half-that, denied the rooted person's comforting, defining sense of having solid ground beneath their feet.”
― Salman Rushdie, Joseph Anton: A Memoir

“Everyone should feel comfortable they are going to remain in their homes until their dying days. We should never be uneasy or unsure of where our home is in the United States of America.”
― Tit Elingtin, Eminent Domain

“Root yourself in this earth
and it will root itself in you.”
― Sheniz Janmohamed, Firesmoke

“I find it hard to harness respect for those who genuinely believe that postmodernity, whatever it may be, allows us to claim no roots.”
― Michel-Rolph Trouillot, Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History

“Perhaps the most important thing in life is for each person to stay headed in the right direction within his assigned place and not to veer off in vain or run around in circles on ill-defined quests.”
― Valentin Rasputin, Siberia on Fire: Stories and Essays

“Now that I am rooted I am no longer limited by motion. Now I may move anywhere in the universe. I sing with the stars. I dance with the galaxies. I share in the joy—and in the grief.”
― Madeleine L'Engle, A Wind in the Door

“Isabel had always enjoyed a house full of people. 'Feed your friends, and their mouths will be too full to gossip,' Bubbie used to say. 'Feed your enemies, and they'll become your friends.' Throughout Isabel's childhood, the Johansen household had been full of people coming over, sitting down for a glass of wine or a slice of pie, staying up late, talking and laughing. Bubbie and Grandfather had been determined that she should never feel like an orphan.
Except that, despite their efforts, sometimes she had. It wasn't their fault, she reflected as she placed wedges of quiche on plates. There was just something inside her- an urge, a yearning- that made her long to be someone's daughter, not the granddaughter. She never said so, though, not aloud. Yet somehow, they heard her. Somehow, they knew.
Perhaps, in the aftermath of Bubbie's final illness and passing, that was why Isabel had become so bound to Bella Vista. Now she couldn't imagine being anywhere else. Her heart resided here, her soul. She still loved having people over, creating beautiful food, watching the passing of the seasons. Even now, with all the trouble afoot and secrets being revealed like the layers of a peeled onion, she found the rhythm of the kitchen soothing.”
― Susan Wiggs, The Apple Orchard

“Oh don't torture my heart! I'll die of sadness in one week there. Living among strangers! How can you transplant an old tree?”
― Valentin Rasputin, Farewell to Matyora