Best 4897 quotes in «marriage quotes» category

Growing older doesn't mean that you are more mature than everyone who is younger than you. Maturity is a lot of things, and age has nothing to do with it.

Growing up watching friends grow, from friends to lovers. Opens the eyes of many every time. Proving in this lifetime, real love still lives.

Gupta and Singh (1982) found that couples in Jaipur, India, who married for love reported diminished feelings of love if they'd been married for more than five years. By contrast, those who'd undertaken arranged marriages reported more love if they weren't newlyweds. These findings reveal that passionate love "cools" over time, and that there's scope for love to flourish within an arranged marriage.

Hadn't he taught her that monogamy was a social construct that held no relevance with the reality of the human heart? That the heart could love, over and over again and unshackle itself from the bondage of loyalty it owed one person without a smidgeon of guilt.

Half and half equals one. And if already divided, Left they are as two halves For they're broken hearted.

Happiness in marriage comes from taking part in a threesome: you, your intimate partner, and God.

Happy is the man who marries the woman he wants; happier is the man who marries the woman he needs.

Happy is he who marries the woman he wants, happier is he who marries the woman he needs, and happiest is he who marries the woman he wants and needs.

Happy is he who marries the woman he wants, happier is he who marries the woman he needs, and happiest is he who marries the woman he wants and needs. Unhappy is he who marries the woman he does not want, unhappier is he who marries the woman he does not need, and unhappiest is he who marries the woman he neither wants nor needs.

hari ini aku bingung membedakan pedekate dengan padabete biarkan waktu yang berbicara saja... tapi bicara kesiapa? :

harusnya hujan ini dapat membasuh hati yang kering. tapi realitanya ? ahsyudahlah... biarkan hujan menentukan haknya~

Have and show motivation to do and learn. That's the key for a good career. Everything else is an extrapolation of that.

Have you ever asked yourself this question "what can God do through me?" The preacher has no platform if the people has no sense of mission.

Have you ever reached to a point where you asked God if the assignment is really from Him. In your account you have just 100 dollars and He is asking you to execute a 400 million dollar project. Have you reached to the point that you consider going further will make no sense? Have you reached the point where you asked God are you sure you are still with me? I just found myself in that Junction now. Turning back ....to realise I have gone too far for Him to forsake me. Moving forward I heard the voice saying ...be still and know that I am your God. Giving up.....Couldn't find it in my dictionary. Moral of the lesson. God cannot give you an assignment that is equal to your pocket. If it suits your pocket it is definitely not from God. Remember God will not take glory where nothing happen.

have you killed me, false thief?

Have you ever make out time to ask God if there is anything or anybody you need to drop in your life? Are you still holding on to offences? When is the right time to drop it? I am sure once you make this attempt He will show you. I declare that God is going to set some captives free.

... having been with Boaz for so long that she could predict every one of his moves, their sex life was more like a race to see who came first.

Having lost and regained her freedom in the most extraordinary circumstances over the course of her remarkable lifetime, few could have set a higher price on the value of liberty. And yet, as she was well aware, it was only through the fundamental principles of justice that her liberty had finally been secured.

Having a date with someone other than your ex-wife after being a married man for more than twenty five years was an important occasion alright, but wearing a tie she bought with such strong emotional value attached to it was a form of cowardice, a subconscious reluctance to let go.

Healthy people will marry healthy people because you will always end up with the person whom you believe you deserve.

He considered telling her that she could, and often, if she married him.

He could totally be your boyfriend," [Angel] went on with annoying persistance. "You guys could get married. I could be like a junior bridesmaid. Total could be your flower dog." "I'm only a kid!" I shrieked. "I can't get married!" "You could in New Hampshire." My mouth dropped open. How does she know this stuff? "Forget it! No one's getting married!" I hissed. "Not in New Hampshire or anywhere else! Not in a box, not with a fox! Now go to sleep, before I kill you!

He didn't take any of my shit. I needed that.

He’d passed the longest night of his life locked in mortal combat with his ghosts, calling up and then disavowing twenty years of memories. He would banish that bitch from his heart if it meant cutting her out with his own dagger. And when at last he allowed himself to grieve, he did so silently and unwillingly, his tears hidden by the darkness, his rage congealing into a core of ice.

He eyed me curiously, his eyes fluttering over my breasts, and I swallowed, knowing he was thinking things he shouldn't. His tongue snuck between his lips and lightly darted to moisten them. I heard what sounded like a moan before he moved his left hand from under the table. He tried to rest his palm on my resting hand but I inched away. I looked at his hand, and noticed the shading of where his wedding ring used to go... My mind caught up - used to? Where was it?

He felt the guilt of inaction, of simply waiting while his life went to waste. No one was worth the gift of his life, no one could possibly be worth that. It belonged to him alone, and he did not deserve it either, because he was letting it waste. It was getting away from him and he made no effort to stop it. He did not know how.

He evidently did not care that they were in full view of a cluster of dog-owners walking their dogs. He stopped and took her in his arms, kissing her passionately and urgently.

He had never thought the question over clearly, but vaguely imagined that his wife had long suspected him of being unfaithful to her and was looking the other way. It even seemed to him that she, a worn-out, aged, no longer beautiful woman, not remarkable for anything, simple, merely a kind mother of a family, ought in all fairness to be indulgent. It turned out to be quite the opposite.

He had never thought in his wildest imagination of marriage as an option for him. Never believed there was a woman out there that would make him sign up for that particular brand of madness. And, in the abstract at least, it still sounded like madness but this wasn’t about marriage, it was about Riley. With her, he knew that boyfriend-girlfriend shit wasn’t going to be enough. He had to have her locked down.

He had no idea about the 'loving deeply' part. Scarlet was the one love he'd had. They'd married the weekend after they'd discovered they both like sangria. He'd thought they were waltzing through life and it turned out she was line dancing.

He had slept next to her for thirty-six years, and the mattress felt different without her weight, however slight, and without the rhythm of her breath the dark had no measure. There were times he woke feeling cold from the lack of the heat that once came from between her thighs and behind her knees. He might have even called her, if he could have momentarily forgotten that he already knew everything she could possibly say.

He had swept her off her feet then, and was all charm and charisma but then the magic slowly diminished and finally died due to his secret betrayals over time. Thousands of little resentments had replaced the early warmth. But their hearts, although heavy with bitterness and anger at the failed expectations, had gotten used to the solace of each other’s company that often comes with years of living together, and they never stopped performing this morning ritual of their married life.

Heiraten heißt das Mögliche t(h)un, einander zum Ekel zu werden. (Marrying means doing whatever possible to become repulsed of each other.)

He is not an ideal husband. I am his wife.

He knew himself well enough to know his own faults. Impatient and judgmental and stubborn and often too quick to act: he would try never to crush her, never to overwhelm her or bend her to his will, but if she did not demand only the best from him, it would happen. It might happen. Possibly.

He knew how the audition was going to affect their lives for the next ten weeks as she slowly lost her mind from nerves and the strain of trying to scrounge precious practice time from an already jam-packed life. No matter how much time poor Sam gave her, it would never be quite enough, because what she actually needed was for him and the kids to just temporarily not exist. She needed to slip into another dimension where she was a single, childless person. Just between now and the audition. She needed to go to a mountain chalet (somewhere with good acoustics) and live and breathe nothing but music. Go for walks. Meditate. Eat well. Do all those positive-visualization exercises young musicians did these days. She had an awful suspicion that if she were to do this in reality, she might not even miss Sam and the children that much, or if she did miss them, it would be quite bearable.

He knew that many of his compatriots avoided marriage at all costs. They saw matrimony as an annoyance, a wife as another person who would nag and prod. But when he repeated his vows, he heard "as long as we both shall live" and he hoped.

He longed for something wordless and potent: what? To wear her. He imagined living in her warmth forever. People in his life had fallen away from him one by one like dominoes; every movement pinned her further so that she could not abandon him. [...] They were pressed so close that when they laughed, his laugh rose from her belly, hers from his throat. He kissed her cheekbones, her clavicle, the pale of her wrist with its rootlike blue veins. His terrible hunger he'd thought would be sated was not. The end apparent in the beginning. 'My wife,' he sais. 'Mine.' Perhaps instead of wearing her, he could swallow her whole. 'Oh?' she said. 'Right. Because I'm chattel. Because my royal family traded me for three mules and a bucket of butter.' [...] 'Nobody belongs to anybody. We've done something bigger. It's new.

He loved her. He loved her because nature willed it. Because they were already united and of one body. The bare flesh on every part of her belonged to him. The scent emitting from her skin was his.

Heloise learned to love Abelard solely for who he was. That forbidden love brought her nothing but pain, but she would rather have shame and pain with Abelard than peace and happiness without him.

He loves her for everything she is and is not. She’s old enough to appreciate that.

Helping a woman make biscuits should not make a fellow this happy. But when the woman was the fellow's wife, and she smiled at him as if he were the noblest hero of her acquaintance--well, it couldn't be helped.

He owe his wife a debt he couldn't hope to pay with any coin save one: open the cage and let the bird fly.

He opened his heart to me. He wasn't afraid to show me his weakness. It was a remarkable thing, in that time, for a man to do that. That's the key thing about a strong marriage. It gives you a safe place to be yourself, entirely, even the weak parts.

Here are officers enough in Meryton to disappoint all the young ladies in the country.

He regarded marriage as an arbitrary and essentially adversarial relationship, akin to the yoking of prisoners on the chain gang.

He remembers which sister I like least and asks how she is doing. (lines 9-11 of the poem 'Divorce')

He remembered the gracefulness with which she moved in battle—like liquid flesh. There was no one quite like his wife, and he never felt more triumphant and free than when he was in her company.

Here's what I've learned about "soon"; it's short for "someday." We make space in our lives for what matters, now. Not in promises and soons, but on mantels with sterling frames, in shelves we clear to make room for our now. Everything else i talk.

Here they were grocery shopping in Fairway on a Saturday morning, a normal married thing to do together— although, Graham could not help noticing, they were not doing it together. His wife, Audra, spent almost the whole time talking to people she knew—it was like accompanying a visiting dignitary of some sort, or maybe a presidential hopeful—while he did the normal shopping.