Quotes About Marriage

You go into marriage, you plow a road. You're going to hit rough patches, and some may be rougher and last longer than others, but you've got choices to make. You work to smooth them out, you hold until they do, or they don't. You stick with the road, or you get off. But you don't do something to make it worse, don't do something that maybe makes you feel better for the short term while it sucker punches the person you're married to.

He's a fine young man, and one who loves you without restrictions. Finding a mate, a true one, is a rare and precious thing." And the heart of the heart, she thought. Yes, he'd found that, too. "I don't even know how it happened, but even when he pisses me off, I'm grateful every day it did." "The best possible description for a good marriage.

Played nice while she worked things out. You're married to a guy thirty years, you've got a serious investment. Gonna irritate you when he trades you in." "I'll keep that in mind." "Me, I don't hire hits." She looked up at his mouth-watering face. "I'd give you the basic courtesy of killing you myself.

Your view on this is narrow. That's how you're built." It didn't feel narrow to her. It felt right. "Marriage is a promise. That's one of the ways you talked me into it. If you break one part of the promise, it's going to crack other parts.

I married a cop." "I told you not to." Now he laughed, and kissed her again where her brow had furrowed. "And would I listen? I'm damn good at being married to a cop.

Marriage, she thought. Every bit as complicated and slippery as cop work.

After a while, Eve thought, marriage turned walls into clear glass so both of you could see right through each other.

She'd know. Ain't nobody more psychic than a wife.

Marital discord, she decided, was like some sort of low-grade fever that threw the whole system just slightly out of whack so you couldn't manage to function at full capacity.

Two years married, she thought, and he could still make her heart hum.

I married a bright, beaming ray of sunshine. And one who's often armed.

Love doesn't hang on conditions, but marriage bloody well hangs on compromise.

Divorced him—hired a fucking shark lawyer—excuse the language." "No problem. Cops hear words like lawyer all the time." Fanny

In a few weeks she wouldn't just be Eve Dallas, lieutenant, homicide. She'd be Roarke's wife. How she would manage to be both was more of a mystery to her than any case that had ever come across her desk.

Brian choked on his whiskey, thumped his chest to help the air into his lungs. His eyes watered. "A cop? You married a bloody cop?" "I married a bloody criminal," Eve muttered, "but nobody ever thinks of that." "I do, darling." Amused, Roarke kissed her hand. "Constantly.

Then you got to the face, framed by that mane of black silk hair, and no heart could be blamed for skipping a few beats. That face, carved by some genius god on a particularly artistic day. Those eyes, so wildly blue they caught the breath. That mouth, so perfectly, romantically sculpted, curved now, for her. Maybe, just maybe, with another handful of years of marriage, seeing him unexpectedly wouldn't simply dazzle her.

Everyone likes everybody and Pettibone is the original nice guy." "Wife's a dink," Peabody offered. "The dink was still smart enough to hook a rich husband.

The Marriage Rules clearly require me to worry about you when applicable.

Martha, I wonder if you can ever truly know someone you love until you have been married near forever." It was Martha's turn for an encouraging nod. "Loving someone and coming to know them better," Jack went on, "I think that will be an adventure all its own.

this is one of my favorite parts of the marriage deal. ...I mean the sex is pretty good, but the coffee...The coffee is amazing!

No, yo ya estoy casada, gracias –le dije–. Búscate una mujer más apropiada que yo, alguien que te haga salir de ti mismo.

Even if you choose someone who is not necessarily the love of your life, married life will be better than what you have now, with just your father and yourself. It is not good to sleep alone night after night.

It was the wife, John thought. And she was giving this tough guy a tongue-lashing. And the man was taking it. Okay. I love you. Bye. Tohrment flipped the phone closed and put it in his pocket. When he focused on John again, he clearly respected his wife enough not to roll his eyes and make some macho, shithead comment about pesky women.

Now tell me something. What's your word for husband?" "Hellren, I suppose. The short version is just hell." She laughed softly. "Go figure.