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.

As the family goes, so goes the nation and so goes the whole world in which we live.

Certain is it that there is no kind of affection so purely angelic as of a father to a daughter. In love to our wives there is desire; to our sons, ambition; but to our daughters there is something which there are no words to express.

When you have snowflakes in the clouds in the sky and you have mountains, you get snow. That's how it works.