The roaring of the wind is my wife and the stars through the window pane are my children. The mighty abstract idea I have of beauty in all things stifles the more divided and minute domestic happiness.

'A duck!... A baby duck.' (Squealing about a birthday card on her third birthday on Puerta Vallarta, Mexico.

“No it's not. It's a big hot!” At 2 years old. After being warned that the car seat was a little hot.

“I wasn't yawning, I was just letting some fresh air into my mouth.” (After being accused of being tired.)

Family life is too intimate to be preserved by the spirit of justice. It can be sustained by a spirit of love which goes beyond justice.