Best 4897 quotes in «marriage quotes» category

There's no such thing as being problem-free. You can really only hope for someone who's able to share your problems with you.

There's nothing more devastating in a marriage than when a spouse puts their work, their desires above their partner's heart.

There's supposed to be more value in your life than spending more than sixty hours in a week in a place you don't care about and in an environment they don't care about you.

There's the emotional work that comes with living with someone who's not you and who therefore has different preferences ans styles of communicating. She might prefer to talk for three days straight if that's what it takes to resolve an argument, while you would rather fill your pockets with granite and walk into the ocean.

There was a certain usefulness in having a husband whom most people could barely tolerate: it deflected envy, for one thing.

. . . there was little to choose between Jews and Catholics. The Jews had holidays that turned up out of the blue and the Catholics had children in much the same way.

There was no one she wanted to see more. There was no one she wanted to see less. "Why?" she whispered. "Why are you here?" "The winds blew," he said.

There was nothing to be done and now what? Mathilde was forty-six. She was too young to be finished forever with love. Still in her prime. Fine-looking. Desirable. And uncoupled now, for good. The story we are told of women is not this one. The story of women is the story of love, of foundering into another. A slight deviation: longing to founder and being unable to. Beng left alone in the foundering, and taking things into one's own hands: rat poison, the wheels of a Russian train. Even the smoother and gentler story is still just a modified version of the above. In the demotic, in the key of bougie, it's the promise of love in old age for all the good girl of the world.

There were men who lived voluntarily in deserts, but they had their God to commune with. For nearly ten years he had felt no need of friends - one woman could include any number of friends.

There was so much he could have said and chose not to. “I didn’t pry into your past, Margaret. I don’t pry into your life before we met, so don’t do it to me.” And that was it, there was nothing more to say. I nodded my head and ever since I’ve made myself comfortable in this limbo of not knowing. Sleepless in this bed I made.

There were oceans of unspoken conversation in long marriages, it seemed.

There were three sides to a marriage: public and private and who-fucking-knows, one lived and one performed and one a thundering mystery.

The richest people in the world build networks and invest in people; everyone else looks for work and invests in survival.

The richest person you can marry is not the one with the most money, but with the most love.

The role of affection in marriage is "give and pull" which simply puts you in a position of a teacher who learns good.

The rose, however, made us girls somewhat fainthearted, because it really was something we felt mattered, the white bridal dream with the wedding bouquet and the kiss from the man who was to be ours forever. But then Laura said that the lady who had given it to us had gotten divorced only five years later. And since many of our parents were also divorce, if indeed they had ever been married at all, that dream clearly wasn't worth our time.

The romantic fairy tales we grew up with -- where marriage is the happy ending rather than the opening scene -- are not useful for grown-ups.

The sacred time will define the sacred event.

The secret of domestic happiness is to let God, the party of the third part in the marriage contract, have His rightful place in the home. Make peace with Him and then you can be a real peacemaker in the home.

The second class status of marriage became one of the principal issues in the Reformation. Martin Luther, the Augustinian friar, had barely posted his ninety-five theses on the door of the church in Wittenberg when he took himself a wife.

These fits of jealousy, which of late had been more and more frequent, horrified him and, however much he tried to disguise the fact, estranged him from her, although he knew the cause of her jealousy was her love for him. How often he had told himself that to be loved by her was happiness; and now that she loved him only as a woman can for whom love outweighs all that is good in life, he was much farther from happiness than when he had followed her from Moscow.

The secret tugs at my sleeve. A child looking for attention. It is not a big secret. But it is not the only one either. “Strength in numbers” they say. For they are many. Many little things that – together – weigh tonnes. And take up space. And are quite noisy. The way only a lot of whispers can make noise. And they follow me. Little secrets of omission, desire, and denial. Of indulgence, hedonism, and exploration. Of peeves, passion, and deep-seated fear. Little secrets of despair and disrepair and prohibited thoroughfare.

The secret to a long and loving marriage is to choose, everyday, to be married.

The seed of a blue lupin will usually produce a blue lupin. But the seed of a blue-eyed man may produce a brown-eyed bore...especially if his wife has a taste for gigolos.

These young-marrying, contemporaries or juniors of the Beat Generation, have often expressed themselves as follows: "My highest aim in life is to achieve a normal healthy marriage and raise healthy [non-neurotic] children." On the face of it, this remark is preposterous. What was always taken as a usual and advantageous life-condition for work in the world and the service of God, is now regarded as an heroic goal to be striven for. Yet we see that it is a hard goal to achieve against the modern obstacles. Also it is a real goal, with objective problems that a man can work at personally, and take responsibility for, and make decisions about—unlike the interpersonal relations of the corporation, or the routine of the factory job for which the worker couldn't care less. But now, suppose the young man is achieving this goal: he has the wife, the small kids, the suburban home, and the labor-saving domestic devices. How is it that it is the same man who uniformly asserts that he is in a Rat Race? Either the goal does not justify itself, or indeed he is not really achieving it. Perhaps the truth is, if marriage and children are the goal, a man cannot really achieve it. It is not easy to conceive of a strong husband and father who does not justified in his work and independent in the world. Correspondingly, his wife feels justified in the small children, but does she have a man, do the children have a father, if he is running a Rat Race? Into what world do the small children grow up in such a home?

The shrewd marry for money, the scheming marry for status, the calculating marry for power, but the wise marry for love.

The sight of a pretty girl provokes in him an overwhelming reaction of appreciation and approval, and correlatively his acquisitive instinct, but he has never married. Why not? Because he knows that if he had a wife, his reaction to pretty girls, now pure and frank and free, would not only be intolerably adulterated but would also be under surveillance and subject to restriction by authority. So the governor always stops him short of disaster.

The silence stretched out between us as I stared at him, the tears blurring my vision as I waited for him to save me from this torment. Surely he could find a way.

The size of a plane does not change the weather but it will get you above it. The size of your faith may not change your situation but it will get you over it.

The Sleeping I have imagined all this: In 1940 my parents were in love And living in the loft on West 10th Above Mark Rothko who painted cabbage roses On their bedroom walls the night they got married. I can guess why he did it. My mother’s hair was the color of yellow apples And she wore a velvet hat with her pajamas. I was not born yet. I was remote as starlight. It is hard for me to imagine that My parents made love in a roomful of roses And I wasn’t there. But now I am. My mother is blushing. This is the wonderful thing about art. It can bring back the dead. It can wake the sleeping As it might have late that night When my father and mother made love above Rothko Who lay in the dark thinking Roses, Roses, Roses.

The slightly aberrational spouse was a status symbol, too. The husband who cooked. The wife who played golf. The husband who took his children to school. The wife who ran her own business. Of course, it was chancier with the women than with the men. You couldn't push it too far. The marathoner wife who made partner - perhaps. The wife who could benchpress her own weight and made the cover of Fortune - too emasculating. The men, on the other hand, got unlimited mileage out of performing so-called women's tasks as long as they also had substantial disposable income and significant business cards.

The stars are always there, even in the daylight. Sometimes we just can't see them.

... the story of my marriage, which is the great joy and astonishment of my life, is too much like a fairy tale, the German kind, unsweetened by Disney.

The strength of a woman is the love she carries in her heart.

The story is told of a famous German chemist that his marriage did not take place, because he forgot the hour of his wedding and went to the laboratory instead of to the church. He was wise enough to be satisfied with a single attempt and died at a great age unmarried

The tears in my eyes are now running down my cheeks at the thought that I have been his wife and his bedfellow, his companion and his duchess, and even now, though he is near to death, still he does not love me. He has never loved me. He never will love me.

The sun still lives his silent vows to the moon, by bowing to kiss her feet whenever she walks in the room.

The temptation, lust, addiction, avarice, mistrust, and Infidelity are evil’s main strategic tools to shatter many homes. The love and family founded on fine sheer system where only two souls can fit. Trust is strength of the system nothing can replace. Third soul is only to shake foundation. Building trust is only the foundation of any family.

The terms `Husband' and `Wife' are inappropriate. They are only companions ad partners. One does not slave for other. They both have equal status.

The thing about gay marriage is simply that it's not gay. It's marriage. If you are uncomfortable with marriage, you can not outlaw marriage. And, shocking, even if homosexuality makes someone uncomfortable, one can not outlaw identifying as or practicing homosexuality. So seeing as both homosexuality and marriage are legal, their being combined should be no big deal.

The thirty-plus years of marriage between the ceiling and the cement plaster showed signs of weakness by the plaster’s frequently developing cracks and holes.

The task is not in getting the healing; the task is in what will you do with your healing. The task is not in seeing the light; the task is in what will you do with the light. It is when you have choices that God can see who you really are not when you are without.

The things I call crisis and all the things that were coming after me are all coming to serve the purpose of God in my life.

The thing about our choices is that after we have made them, they turn around and make us.

The thought of being completely dependent disturbs people till the moment their eyes are opened to reality.

The thrill of falling in love is often the thrill of being loved; the thrill of marriage is the thrill of loving someone for the rest of your life. Each day - and year - that passes is a triumph of this act of loving.

The true measure of a man is how he treats you when others are not looking.

The true love is unconditional. Marriage is a conditional bond.

The unconscious operation of the attachment system via internal working models probably plays an important part in the choice of marital partner and relationship patterns in marriage. Holmes (1993) has described a pattern of 'phobic-counterphobic' marriage in which an ambivalently attached person will be attracted to an avoidant 'counter-phobic' spouse in a system of mutual defence against separation anxiety.

The union of their shared lives could be a masterpiece, even if the colors of one piece clashed with another, even if uneven stitches showed, even if, from time to time, they had to pick out seams, realign the pieces, and sew them back together again. It would not be perfect, but it could be beautiful, if they worked together and persevered.