The family the soul wants is a felt network of relationship, an evocation of a certain kind of interconnection that grounds, roots, and nestles.

Rich parents are famous both for miserliness and astonishing longevity. And, when they finally do die, you'll find they've left their estate in inviolate trust to the golden retrievers.

A family is but too often a commonwealth of malignants.

Happy or unhappy, families are all mysterious.

The Family! Home of all social evils, a charitable institution for indolent women, a prison workshop for the slaving breadwinner, and a hell for children.

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

No matter how many communes anybody invents, the family always creeps back.

Families, I hate you! Shut-in living, closed doors, jealous protectors of happiness.

Everyone has a family tree; the Dawsons have one, it's a weeping willow.

The craze of genealogy is connected with the epidemic for divorce. If we can't figure out who our living relatives are, then maybe we'll have more luck with the dead ones.