'Daddy, there's Victor, only he has more white hairs now.' (about our neighbor 3 doors down who is a regular reader of McClelland Family.com)

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

Every man sees in his relatives, and especially in his cousins, a series of grotesque caricatures of himself.

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.

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