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To be honest, I think I'd become a bit selfish with memories of my father. I wanted to hug them close to me.

The fact my relationship with my son is so good makes me forgiving of my father and also appreciative.

When I approach a child, he inspires in me two sentiments; tenderness for what he is, and respect for what he may become.

Dad was a very gentle, sweet man.

A child is owed the greatest respect; if you have ever have something disgraceful in mind, don't ignore your son's tender years.

I adored my father - I was more attached to him than anyone.

I'm told I'm like my father, and he was the most wonderful man. But I think he was gentler than me.

I am happy now, to recall that I was not only his son but his companion, and whenever there was a hunting expedition or any other pleasure, I was always with him.

My father superintended the English part of my education, and to his care I am indebted for anything valuable which I may have acquired in my youth. He was my only intelligent companion, and was both a watchful parent and an affectionate friend.

Like all my family and class, I considered it a sign of weakness to show affection; to have been caught kissing my mother would have been a disgrace, and to have shown affection for my father would have been a disaster.