To an old father, nothing is more sweet Than a daughter. Boys are more spirited, but their ways Are not so tender.

An Irish-American virgin at the age of thirty, she took care of her senile father until he died, and then her cancer-ridden mother until her death.

When I go home my mother and I play a cannibal game; we eat each other over the years, tender morsel by morsel until there is nothing left but dry bone and wig. She is winning-needless to say she has had so much more experience.

The dread ballet classes of former years had been an ordeal-all the little daughters of doctors and dentists, socialites from Fairfield in squirrel coats and Tyrolean skirts, the heiress of a girdle empire escorted by a black maid.

I sometimes have the feeling that her entire life was merely a continuation of her mother's, much as the course of a ball on the billiard table is merely the continuation of the player's arm movement.

Trust not your daughter's minds By what you see them act.

A fluent tongue is the only thing a mother don't like her daughter to resemble her in.

The Mother weeps At that white funeral of the single life, Her maiden daughter's marriage; and her tears Are half of pleasure, half of pain.