In every conceivable manner, the family is link to our past, bridge to our future. The family is the nucleus of civilization.
In each family a story is playing itself out, and each family's story embodies its hope and despair.
American families have always shown remarkable resiliency, or flexible adjustment to natural, economic, and social challenges. Their strengths resemble the elasticity of a spider web, a gull's skillful flow with the wind, the regenerating power of perennial grasses, the cooperation of an ant colony, and the persistence of a stream carving canyon rocks. These are not the strengths of fixed monuments but living organisms. This resilience is not measured by wealth, muscle or efficiency but by creativity, unity, and hope. Cultivating these family strengths is critical to a thriving human community.
Becoming responsible adults is no longer a matter of whether children hang up there pajamas or put dirty towels in the hamper, but whether they care about themselves and others -- and whether they see everyday chores as related to how we treat this planet.
Making the decision to have a child - it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body.
Don't hold your parents up to contempt. After all, you are their son, and it is just possible that you may take after them.
If you cannot get rid of the family skeleton, you may as well make it dance.
Perhaps the greatest social service that can be rendered by anybody to this country and to mankind is to bring up a family.
I have found the best way to give advice to your children is to find out what they want and then advise them to do it.
Writing is a solitary occupation. Family, friends, and society are the natural enemies of the writer. He must be alone, uninterrupted, and slightly savage if he is to sustain and complete an undertaking.