There is not much less vexation in the government of a private family than in the managing of an entire state.

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

My father! The sun is my father, and the earth is my mother, and on her bosom I will recline.

One race there is of men, one of gods, but from one mother we both draw our breath.

Family! Thou art the home of all social evil, a charitable institution for comfortable women, an anchorage for house-fathers, and a hell for children.

A family’s photograph album is generally about the extended family—and, often, is all that remains of it.

All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That’s his.

The family is the test of freedom; because the family is the only thing that the free man makes for himself and by himself.

The most socially subversive institution of our time is the one-parent family.

Families, I hate you! Shut-in homes, closed doors, jealous possessions of happiness.

Mother died today. Or maybe it was yesterday, I don’t know.