Best 4897 quotes in «marriage quotes» category

I do not care about power and wealth, father. I want to marry for love.” “You want to marry for love?” The elder Valentino scoffed. “Que mierda. Marrying for love is like adding extra picante to your meal. It may seem like a good idea at the time, but your stomach will curse you for it with ulcers in the end.

I do not have any trust fund, I have always trusted God for all my funds.

I don't agree with you in the least," said Temple— "about marriage, I mean. A man ought to want to get married—" "To anybody? Without its being anybody in particular?" "Yes," said Temple stoutly. "If he gets to thirty without wanting to marry any one in particular, he ought to look about till he finds some one he does want. It's the right and proper thing to marry and have kiddies.

I do not wait till i am in trouble till i can call on God. I have learned to speak the way God speaks, I have learned to see things the way God sees and I have also learned to handle it the way God handles it. Christ is the daily language of my mouth and faith is my daily talk and my actions have become the language of my life.

I don't belong to you ... You thought if I married you that I would, but I don't. I don't belong to any man ... I only belong to myself. But belonging to myself doesn't mean I don't love you or that I don't want to stand beside you.

I don't feel good anymore with this skin... probably a new title... a new chapter.. something new will be more okay than that... to much honesty... I am not on this... After all if you don't know this fact, I am going to point it to you... Marriage is successful if it's build on a lie...

I don't have to get married to grow up!

I don't just have only the peace of God, I do also have a God who gives peace, not just resources but the revelation of His presence.

I don't know how many marriage breakups are caused by these movie-and television-addicted women expecting some bouquets and kissing and hugging and being swept out like Cinderella for dinner and dancing -- then getting mad when a poor, scraggly husband comes in tired and sweaty from working like a dog all day, looking for some food.

I don't know," she said. "We used to squabble a lot when we were going together and then engaged and everything, but I thought everything would be so different as soon as you were married. And now I feel so sort of strange and everything. I feel so sort of alone.

I don't have to be EVERYTHING to be SOMETHING! Do what you CAN!

I don’t know if this happens in all relationships, but I just got so sick of his all too familiar stories. I had heard these stories so many times that I could have recited them myself.

I don't know how many years it's been since I last slept with my husband. I was faithful, stupid and so awfully lonely that I'll gobble you up if you're nice to me. Or kill you because I can't bear it.

I don't have to be EVERYTHING to be SOMETHING!

I don't know how Jen and I became strangers in our own marriage, how we let something that should have brought us closer derail us like a couple of amateurs. We were two reasonably smart people in love with each other, and then, one day we were less so, and maybe we were headed here anyway, maybe she just got there first, because she felt the loss of our baby more acutely. For a moment, a feeling circles me, something approaching clarity, maybe even acceptance, but it fails to settle and ultimately dissipates.

I don't know why we stopped reading together, but gradually we were not doing it regularly, and then without realizing it was happening we were reading different books, and gradually we came not to care about the book the other one was reading, because it was not the book we were reading, and we became bored and drifted off when the other one talked about his book. What we were doing, reading different books, was furnishing different rooms, constructing separate worlds almost, in which we could sit and be ourselves again. Of course those were rooms in which we each sat alone, and we gradually spent more and more time in them and less and less in the house we lived in together.

I don’t know why we fight. It takes much too effort to stay mad at you. To dodge your skin in the hallway and leave the kitchen without bringing you a treat. It takes much too effort to stare at the sink so my eyes don’t smile at you in the mirror. It takes much too effort to look away as we undress and lie apart in the now bigger bed. It takes much too effort to stiffen my body because sleepy limbs forget fights and pride is always lost in dreams. It takes much too effort to awaken every hour to make sure we are islands with a gulf of white sheets separating us. I dread the light peeking through the parted curtains and empathise with your groans — I didn’t get any sleep either. I really don’t know why we fight. It takes much too effort to stay mad at one another when it’s so easy for us to love.

I don’t regret meeting Jon. I knew that God put us together early. I knew he was my destiny, but sometimes as if I was a fisherman I wanted to throw back my destiny and start again

I don’t respect my husband because he is the man and I am the woman, and it’s my “place” to submit to him. I respect Dan because he is a good person, and because he has made me a better person too.

I don't want a girl who only feels comfortable in either a temple or a discotheque. She has to be both, the saint and the sinner!

I don't think she can see her husband very often, for he teaches the university students during the day, and works at the telescope at night. I wonder if she hopes for cloudy nights and then feels guilty.

I don't want a man to validate me or take care of me. If I have a man in my life, I want him to enhance me.

I don't want to settle down because God has satisfied me and heard my prayers. I want to stay hungry and thirsty for the things of God.

)...) I do think it is their husbands’ faults if wives do fall: say that they slack their duties and pour our treasures into foreign laps, or else break out in peevish jealousies, throwing restraint upon us, or say they strike us, or scant our former having in despite. Why, we have galls; and though we have some grace, yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know their wives have sense like them: they see and smell and have their palates both for sweet and sour, as husbands have. What is it that they do when they change us for others? Is it sport? I think it is. And doth affection breed it? I think it doth. Is’t frailty that thus errs? It is so too. And have not we affections, desires for sport, and frailty, as men have? Then let them use us well, else let them know the ills we do their ills instruct us so.

I’d rather lose an argument to the person I love, than win the argument and lose the person.

If a car can represent something, this one represents contradiction. For most of his life, my dad has been able to have any woman he wants. In response, he’s gone through as many as possible, betraying each for someone younger and more absurd. Conversely, for most of his life he’s been able to have any car he wants, too. In response, he’s remained married to this, a 1982 Porsche with a tricky clutch.

If a couple isn’t following God’s guidelines for life or being led by the Holy Spirit, disagreements and misunderstandings skyrocket.

I expected marriage to be a door that we went through. Like a new house, you step into it, expecting it to be an unchanging space to inhabit. But, of course, I was wrong. Marriage is a living, changing thing that you must tend to both alone and together It grows in all sorts of ways, both ordinary and unexpected.

If a man ever lets you know that he sees marriage as a trap, and women as nothing but scheming connivers, you are by no means to marry him. Any man that sees your entire sex in so harsh a light has nothing to offer you.

If a man treats you like a princess, he deserves to be your king.

If a man can wear his wife’s little mistake on his sleeves as a sign of their intimacy, and not be upset with her, but be alright with it, and even admit it as his own and claim possession over it, isn’t that a kind of man she had dreamed of?

If all the women over the world have been permitted to be married to only one man, except one woman. He'd love to marry that woman. That is the imprint of man

If all you are looking for is a miracle you are wide open to follow the antichrist and the false prophets because they are going to have a big league of signs and wonders ministry. If signs and wonders do not bring glory and honour to Jesus Christ, then you must be watching a false prophet whose anointing does not come from the Holy Spirit of God.

If a man and a woman marry in order to be companions on the journey from earth to heaven, then their union will bring great joy to themselves and to others.

If a man does not treat you like a princess during courtship, he will not treat you like a queen during marriage.

If an enthusiastic, ardent, and ambitous man marry a wife on whose name there is a stain, which, though it originate in no fault of hers, may be visited by cold and sordid people upon her, and upon his children also: and, in exact proportion to his success in the world, be cast in his teeth, and made the subject of sneers against him: he may-no matter how generous and good his nature- one day repent of the connection he formed in early life; and she may have the pain and torture of knowing that he does so.

If a woman laughs when you hurt her, you ought to cry, for you have lost her; if she cries, you may laugh, for you have a worthy soulmate.

If a woman upsets you, forgive her. If a woman betrays you, forsake her. If a woman abandons you, forget her. If a woman stands behind you, respect her. If a woman stands beside you, cherish her. If a woman stands with you, adore her.

If a young man gets married, starts a family, and spends the rest of his life working at a soul-destroying job, he is held up as an example of virtue and responsibility. The other type of man, living only for himself, working only for himself, doing first one thing and then another simply because he enjoys it and because he has to keep only himself, sleeping where and when he wants, and facing woman when he meets her, on equal terms and not as one of a million slaves, is rejected by society. The free, unshackled man has no place in its midst.

I feel conscious that I should find no reason to regret abandoning so pleasant a manner of life and such valuable privileges to become a wife of anyone. Beside, marriag is not in my opinion, so exceedingly desirable as some persons think. A woman's career is over when she marries. Once married, all is fixed - certainty takes the place of all her pleasant dreams. For her, no more hopes, no more doubts, no more suspense, no more possibility of anything better. She knows what she is and will be until death. For my part, I like to give free scope to my thoughts.

I fear that this is what long term relationships are all about, at base: full-time role-playing, memorized and inhabited.

I feel good with my husband: I like his warmth and his bigness and his being-there and his making and his jokes and stories and what he reads and how he likes fishing and walks and pigs and foxes and little animals and is honest and not vain or fame-crazy and how he shows his gladness for what I cook him and joy for when I make him something, a poem or a cake, and how he is troubled when I am unhappy and wants to do anything so I can fight out my soul-battles and grow up with courage and a philosophical ease. I love his good smell and his body that fits with mine as if they were made in the same body-shop to do just that. What is only pieces, doled out here and there to this boy and that boy, that made me like pieces of them, is all jammed together in my husband. So I don't want to look around any more: I don't need to look around for anything.

I fell in love and then I became love.

I fell in love with him. But I don't just stay with him by default as if there's no one else available. I stay with him because I choose to everyday that I wake up, everyday that we fight or lie to each other or disappoint each other. I choose him over and over again, and he chooses me.

If every lover was treated like they matter — everyday; valentine’s day wouldn’t be so 'special.

I fell in love the moment I saw her in her grandfather's kitchen, her dark curls crashing over her Portuguese shoulders. 'Would you like to drink coffee?' she smiled. 'I'm really not that thirsty.' 'What? What you say?' Her English wasn't too good. Now I'm seventy-three and she's just turned seventy. 'Would you like to drink coffee?' she asked me today, smiling. 'I'm really not that thirsty.' 'What? What you say?' Neither of us has the gift of language acquisition. After fifty years of marriage we have never really spoken, but we love each other more than words can say.

I fell in love with you like the stars fell in love with the sky, without you I am empty and bare.

I felt it then - the power of what we were doing, the significance of the ritual - as we stood there with our future still unwritten, with every unknown still utterly unknown, just gripping each other's hands as we said our vows.

If God had a wife He would be in just as much trouble as any man.

If God gives you a gift and you don't know what to do with it, it won't make you happy. Some of you God gave a wonderful husband but you can't make a home and some of you God gave a wonderful wife but you can't make a good husband. Some of you can't even unwrap the gift so that you can appreciate it.