Quotes About Marriage

But a lot of people got married so they could fuck six times a week. Then in a while they only felt like fucking once a week and had to talk to each other in between. Created a lot of drunks.

There was a blackberry pie which the counterman claimed his wife made, and I ate two pieces. He had married well.

Wouldn't you think," Marcy said, "with all that money and all that time on their hands, nobody works, that these women could manage to look better than they do?" "Well it's not like they all married Tom Selleck," Jesse said.

Then why don't you get married?" "I'm not sure. Mostly it's a question of how we'd affect each other, I suppose. Would

He married, but not happily. He hated his wife for breathing with lungs, which crayfish do not possess. He divorced his wife – and spent the rest of his life in the service of an idea.

Holman studied the two cops. They were both in their thirties with solid builds and burnished faces as if they spent time outdoors. They were fit men and young, but neither had Holman's heavy shoulders and weight. The man seated beside Holman was wearing a wedding ring. Holman

Grand strategy is about marrying ends to means, about doing what you can, consistent with the nation's capabilities and resources.

There is one thing more exasperating than a wife who can cook and won't, and that's a wife who can't cook and will.

Diane tenía una idea, un concepto de cómo debería ser la vida, el matrimonio, que no coincidió nunca con lo que tuvimos. En ese sentido le fallé.

The guidance counselor had never married; had hardly even dated. It was better, easier, he had decided, not to disturb anyone with his love or his sadness.

Leia Organa married Han Solo; and together they had three children.

I know you're still young but I want you to understand and learn this now. Marriage can wait, education cannot. You're a very very bright girl. Truly you are. You can be anything you want Laila. I know this about you. And I also know that when this war is over Afghanistan is going to need you as much as its men maybe even more. Because a society has no chance of success if its women are uneducated Laila. No chance.

I have a theory about marriage, Monsieur Boustouler. And it's that nearly always you will know within two weeks if it's going to work. It's astonishing how many people remain shackled for years, decades even, in a protracted and mutual state of self-delusion and false hope when in fact they had their answer in those first two weeks.

Laila remembered Mammy telling Babi once that she had married a man who had no convictions. Mammy didn't understand. She didn't understand that if she looked into a mirror, she would find the one unfailing conviction of his life looking right back at her.

If I ever do get married, Tariq said, they'll have to make room for three on the wedding stage. Me, the bride, and the guy holding the gun to my head

Sometimes, Soraya Sleeping next to me, I lay in bed and listened to the screen door swinging open and shut with the breeze, to the crickets chirping in the yard. And I could almost feel the emptiness in Soraya's womb, like it was a living, breathing thing. It had seeped into our marriage, that emptiness, into our laughs, and our love-making. And late at night, in the darkness of our room, I'd feel it rising from Soraya and setting between us. Sleeping between us. Like a newborn child.

For some people, particularly women, marriage-even an unhappy one such as this-is an escape from even greater unhappiness.

Mariam wondered how so many women could suffer the same miserable luck, to have married, all of them, such dreadful men.

LAILA WOULD REMEMBER the muted ceremony in bits and fragments. The cream-colored stripes of Rasheed's suit. The sharp smell of his hair spray. The small shaving nick just above his Adam's apple. The rough pads of his tobacco-stained fingers when he slid the ring on her. The pen. Its not working. The search for a new pen. The contract. The signing, his sure-handed, hers quavering. The prayers. Noticing, in the mirror, that Rasheed had trimmed his eyebrows.

She had this laugh. I swear it's why I married her, Laila, for that laugh! It bulldozed you. You stood no chance against it.

I know you're still young, but I want you to understand and learn this now, he said. Marriage can wait, education cannot. You're a very, very bright girl. Truly, you are. You can be anything you want, Laila. I know this about you. And I also know that when this war is over, Afghanistan is going to need you as much as its men, maybe even more. Because a society has no chance of success if its women are uneducated, Laila. No chance.

In the mirror, Mariam had her first glimpse of Rasheed: the big, square, ruddy face; the crooked nose; the flushed cheeks that gave the impression of sly cheerfulness; the watery, bloodshot eyes; the crowded teeth, the front two pushed together like a gables roof; the impossible low hairline, barely two fingers widths above the bushy eyebrows; the wall of thick, coarse, salt-and-pepper hair. Their gazes met briefly in the glass and slid away. This is the face of my husband, Mariam thought.

She was just about the liveliest, happiest person I'd ever met. He smiled at the memory. She had this laugh. I swear it's why I married her, Laila, for that laugh. It bulldozed you. You stood no chance against it.

Masooma." "Could you?" "I could try," Parwana says. "Good. Then marry Saboor. Look after his