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.

'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)

“This is our house. And this is America Online.” (While pointing at a map of the North American continent.)

All I am, or can be, I owe to my angel mother.

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