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.

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.

'I'm not beautiful, I'm pretty!' (Angrily at age 2 and a half. After getting into his sister's toy makeup case and being called beautiful...)

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

'When you kiss someone, your heart goes out to them, and when you're done kissing them your heart goes back in.'