The father of a daughter is nothing but a high-class hostage. A father turns a stony face to his sons, berates them, shakes his antlers, paws the ground, snorts, runs them off into the underbrush, but when his daughter puts her arm over his shoulder and says, 'Daddy, I need to ask you something,' he is a pat of butter in a hot frying pan.
God writes a lot of comedy... the trouble is, he's stuck with so many bad actors who don't know how to play funny.
Thank you, God, for this good life and forgive us if we do not love it enough.
A lovely thing about Christmas is that it's compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together.
Nothing you do for children is ever wasted. They seem not to notice us, hovering, averting our eyes, and they seldom offer thanks, but what we do for them is never wasted.