Best 4 quotes of Rose Franken on MyQuotes

It had been a beautiful night and she loved him more than ever in the morning. "If it weren't real love," David told her, "if it were only physical, it wouldn't be that way." Claudia, who was only eighteen and who did not know very much about love, had the greatest respect for her husband's superior knowledge of sex. Not that he'd ever led a wild life, or run around, but he'd read a great many books on the subject and knew as much as a doctor.

It was funny how she valued his respect--hardly any married people she knew seemed to have that feeling toward each other, yet it was a point of pride in both of them to maintain a level of mutual regard.

It was impossible to explain. The new moon, the snow, the dusky smell of burning logs -- the whole evening had throbbed with some sweet haunting anguish of the soul. The word came to her. Nostalgia--for something that was hers and seemed already passed.

She looked a sight. No wonder he had mistaken her for a little country nobody, no make-up, and her old brown coat. Nothing in the world, she suddenly realized, could be quite so brown or quite so old as an old brown coat and to complete the picture, nothing could make a second-hand station wagon look less imposing than a flat tire and two dusty bags of dog food sitting up in the rear of it, like lumpy old ladies. But no matter what he thought, she'd be a fool to take one insult after another without doing something about it. If she didn't, his attitude was enough to give her an inferiority complex for the rest of her life. David would not know what had happened but he would miss some indefinable voltage that had been part of her in time their marriage would become a bloodless union which he would cease to cherish with jealousy and pride. It might sound a little far-fetched in theory, but in actual practice she knew that it was true.