Quotes About Marriage

That there's no more important decision in life than who you marry.

Being married means I can break wind and eat ice cream in bed.

While waiting for Carl Vespa to arrive, Grace started picking up the bedroom. Jack, she knew, was a great husband and father. He was smart, funny, loving, caring, and devoted. To counter that, God had blessed him with the organization skills of a citrus beverage. He was, in sum, a slob. Nagging him about it—and Grace had tried—did no good. So she stopped. If living happily was about compromise, this seemed to her like a pretty good one to make. Grace

Remember when you asked me why I didn't say anything before you married Tom?" "It was a few days ago. I can sometimes remember back a whole week." "I

married Ginny," he said to Terese. "You remember her?" "Of course. I'm glad to hear you're happy, Mario." He took a beat, reassessing, calming down. "We have three kids. We keep saying we're going to buy a bigger place, but we like it here. And real estate is ridiculous in London." We stood there.

Kaylie may have said more, but Megan turned away, not really interested. In the TV room, her husband, Dave, was sprawled out in gray sweats. Dave was watching the latest fallen movie actor bragging in some tasteless interview about the many women he'd bagged and the years of scoring at strip clubs. The actor was manic and wide-eyed and clearly on something that required a physician with a loose prescription pad. From

I shall never marry, Atticus. Why? I might have children.

Love whom you will but marry your own kind was a dictum amounting to instinct within her.

We saw Uncle Jack every Christmas, and every Christmas he yelled across the street for Miss Maudie to come marry him. Miss Mauide would yell back, Call a little louder, Jack Finch, and they'll hear you the post office, I haven't heard you yet! Jem and I thought this a strange way to ask for a lady's hand in marriage, but then again Uncle Jack was rather strange.

Baby, you'll have to grow some more before this makes sense to you, but your daddy and your mamma loved each other something fierce, and when you love somebody like that, Miss Scout, why that's what you want to do. That's what everybody wants to do when they love like that. They want to get married, they want to kiss and hug and carry on and have babies all the time.

By the time I'm ready to get married I'll be ninety and then it'll be too late.

The easy way out of this would be to marry Hank and let him labor for her. After a few years, when the children were waist-high, the man would come along whom she should have married in the first place. There would be searchings of hearts, fevers and frets, long looks at each other on the post office steps, and misery for everybody.

It's just that I'm so afraid of making a mess of being married to the wrong man—the wrong kind for me, I mean. I'm no different from any other woman, and the wrong man would turn me into a screamin' shrew in record time.

Atticus said: "Sister, when you stop to think about it, our generation's practically the first in the Finch family not to marry its cousins. Would you say the Finches have an Incestuous Streak?" Aunty said no, that's where we got our small hands and feet.

He had asked me earlier in the summer to marry him, then he promptly forgot about it. He staked me out, marked as his property, said I was the only girl he would ever love, then he neglected me. I beat him up twice but it did no good, he only grew closer to Jem.

That's what everybody wants to do when they love like that. They want to get married, they want to kiss and hug and carry on and have babies all the time.

He so nearly understood. I'll marry you, Hank, if you bring me to live here at the Landing. I'll swap New York for this place but not for Maycomb.

Uncle Jack," she said. "What am I going to do about Hank?" "What you will eventually," he said. "Let him down easy?" "Um hum." "Why?" "He's not your kind." Love whom you will, marry your own kind. "Look, I'm not going to argue with you over the relative merits of trash—" "That has nothing to do with it. I'm tired of you. I want my supper.

She was easy to look at and easy to be with most of the time, but she was in no sense of the word an easy person. She was afflicted with a restlessness of spirit he could not guess at, but he knew she was the one for him. He would protect her; he would marry her.

Honey, the sun rises and sets with that Bill of hers. Everything he says is Gospel. She loves her man. Is that what loving your man is? Has a lot to do with it. Jean Louise said, You mean losing your own identity, don't you? In a way, yes, said Henry. Then I doubt if I shall ever marry.

he found something so intensely feminine about her that he fell in love. She was easy to look at and easy to be with most of the time, but she was in no sense of the word an easy person. She was afflicted with a restlessness of spirit he could not guess at, but he knew she was the one for him. He would protect her; he would marry her.

Alexandra had been married for thirty-three years; if it had made any impression on her one way or another, she never showed it.

Of course marriage isn't the solution to all life's ills. It can bring boatfuls of ills, if one is unlucky - think how unhappy people can be, yoked together.

living in the same house, married to the same woman, doing the same things in the same way until arthritis stiffened him, cataracts dimmed him, muscles failed and cancers ate him.