One day you are an apprentice, and everybody's pet; the next, you are coldly expected to deliver. There is never sufficient warning that the second day is coming.

It's easy enough to get along with a loved and loving child - at least till you try to get him to do something.

The neurotic feels as though trapped in a gas-filled room where at any moment someone, probably himself, will strike a match.

Neurotics have plenty of non-neurotic friends, but not for long.

In retrospect, our triumphs could as easily have happened to someone else; but our defeats are uniquely our own.

After he has had his tantrum, the neurotic expects those around him to feel friendly and relaxed; after all, he does.

The only mothers it is safe to forget on Mother's Day are the good ones.