How strong it makes a family when all the sisters and brothers stand
together, and what an awful wreck when they disintegrate, quarreling
about a father's will and making the surrogate's office horrible with
their wrangle. Better when you were little children in the nursery
that with your playhouse mallets you had accidentally killed each
other fighting across your cradle, than that, having come to the age
of maturity, and having in your veins and arteries the blood of the
same father and mother, you fight each other across the parental grave
in the cemetery.