Best 30 quotes in «wife and husband quotes» category

No man wants his wife to be a woman that other men don't desire....But every man wants his wife to be a woman that other men don't get.

Non era la prima volta che mi trovavo a vivere sotto un regime di argomenti vietati

Piper’s lust was like a single bear trap in the wilderness. It was nearly impossible to find if you were looking for it, but it was something you wanted to be prepared for if you stepped into it by accident.

The dog leash was still tied tight around the oak tree in the back, stretched worn and limp across the green grass as if trying to escape to freedom; and he buried his wife without a tombstone. Where before, she sat most times in his home, licking her wounds.

Relationship ties heart of two souls eager to fly freely soaring to sky feats in full-fledged wings unrestrained passions to a realm in which both remain invisible.

Silent as a flower, her face fell in dismay, aware that the ghost of lust ate and left, sensing that there was a different scent of perfume consuming the room, and that she had numbered and counted the he loves me, he loves me not of each petal, where the lifeless dust had settle.

Sybil never shouted when she told him off. She just spoke sadly, which was a lot worse.

There was no jealousy on the part of a new spouse over the love or affection a man or woman shared with a former spouse. It was considered a blessing to have had such loves in one's life.

There is, you will concede, a limit to the niceties a man is obliged to fulfill when his wife is dead and not yet cold.

‪Your beauty will attract him. Only your character will keep him.‬

The venom clamours of a jealous woman, Poisons more deadly than a mad dog’s tooth. It seems his sleeps were hinder’d by thy railing: And thereof comes it that his head is light. Thou say’st his meat was sauced with thy upbraidings: Unquiet meals make ill digestions; Thereof the raging fire of fever bred; And what’s a fever but a fit of madness? Thou say’st his sports were hinder’d by thy brawls: Sweet recreation barr’d, what doth ensue But moody and dull melancholy, Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair; And at her heels a huge infectious troop Of pale distemperatures and foes to life? In food, in sport, and life-preserving rest To be disturb’d, would mad or man or beast: The consequence is, then, thy jealous fits Have scared thy husband from the use of wits.

To celebrate his prosperity, fellow employees and friends urged him to take a young concubine to "serve him". Even Ye Ye's boss, the London-educated K. C. Li, jokingly volunteered to "give" him a couple of girls with his bonus. Ye Ye reported all this in a matter-of-fact way in a letter to his wife, adding touchingly that he was a "one-woman man".

The woman in front of him was perfect. Her sweet curved lips and flushed cheeks. The way her long eyelashes batted when she blinked and the incredible scent of cinnamon from her soft skin, she was the only thing that he’d finally gotten right. She was the only thing that mattermattered. No matter how far away he could run, the image of her would always be in at the back of his mind.

Until that moment I'd thought I could have it both ways; to be one of them, and also my husband's wife. What conceit! I was his instrument, his animal. Nothing more. How we wives and mothers do perish at the hands of our own righteousness. I was just one more of those women who clamp their mouths shut and wave the flag as their nation rolls off to conquer another in war. Guilty or innocent, they have everything to lose. They are what there is to lose. A wife is the earth itself, changing hands, bearing scars.

When your husband's eyes light up as he comes in at night, you're in sad shape if it's only because he smells dinner cooking.

A wife's power is not to prove her husband but rather to improve him.

A man who truly loves his wife is loved by the entire world

A marriage is sensitive, fragile and crucial. Once you mess up with how you handle it, it will shatter

My wife Once said ''If You ever go bald, then I am gonna leave you'' And she never lied.

Difficult job is to keep your own wife happy without hurting others.

Everything you do.. defies any dream I've ever dreamed. You're so much more perfect to me than I ever knew how to wish for. ~Tara Mae~

For Anne and our cub, for making me and my life less beastly

Greatest deal is to live a happy life with your own wife.

I cut our paper dinner with a pair of scissors borrowed from the front desk of the hotel. I cooked with a spice rack box of crayons – sixteen colors. I seasoned the pumpkin pie with orange crayon, and basted the turkey's crisp skin in brown. I was remorseless with my sketchbook abattoir, playing the part of carnivore just as surely as I was play-acting the role of wife. I may as well have been a wax figure in a dollhouse eating the wax-scented food.

I immersed myself in my relationship with my husband, in little ways at first. Dutch would come home from his morning workout and I’d bring him coffee as he stepped out of the shower. He’d slip into a crisp white shirt and dark slacks and run a little goop through his hair, and I’d eye him in the mirror with desire and a sultry smile that he couldn’t miss. He’d head to work and I’d put a love note in his bag—just a line about how proud I was of him. How beautiful he was. How happy I was as his wife. He’d come home and cook dinner and instead of camping out in front of the TV while he fussed in the kitchen, I’d keep him company at the kitchen table and we’d talk about our days, about our future, about whatever came to mind. After dinner, he’d clear the table and I’d do the dishes, making sure to compliment him on the meal. On those weekends when he’d head outside to mow the lawn, I’d bring him an ice-cold beer. And, in those times when Dutch was in the mood and maybe I wasn’t, well, I got in the mood and we had fun. As the weeks passed and I kept discovering little ways to open myself up to him, the most amazing thing happened. I found myself falling madly, deeply, passionately, head-over-heels in love with my husband. I’d loved him as much as I thought I could love anybody before I’d married him, but in treating him like my own personal Superman, I discovered how much of a superhero he actually was. How giving he was. How generous. How kind, caring, and considerate. How passionate. How loving. How genuinely good. And whatever wounds had never fully healed from my childhood finally, at long last, formed scar tissue. It was like being able to take a full breath of air for the first time in my life. It was transformative. And it likely would save our marriage, because, at some point, all that withholding would’ve turned a loving man bitter. On some level I think I’d known that and yet I’d needed my sister to point it out to me and help me change. Sometimes it’s good to have people in your life that know you better than you know yourself.

I want you with me, my dearest. Not just as a friend, though also as that. I want you as my wife. I want to know that we share our lives and cares, we share our health and ill, and we share our happiness and sorrow.

I do what I have to do, like everyone else, and one of the things I have to do is to serve my wife breakfast in bed.

If you require a joy, you can't afford to be a wife

Look at yourself, idiot. You reek like the slaughter-house. Plan your dastard’s revenge as you like. But for those of us liking our company civilized, spare us the horror and bathe yourself first!

Love is contagious no matter how you face it.