Thank you for being you… for sharing your love with me… for inspiring me to accept myself… for helping me see the unique beauty in imperfection… for showing me that love is something you do; something not just to be said, but also to be shown.
The actual person with whom you live is bound to be, in a curiuos way, invisible, in just the same way as yourself, are invisible; all you can do is sense their presence, feel them within you, and in turn expand in them. The word love, comapred to that has little meaning.
But as his wife - at his side always, and always restrained, and always checked - forced to keep the fire of my nature continually low, to compel it to burn inwardly and never utter a cry, though the imprisoned flame consumed vital after vital - this would be unendurable.
The real mystery of marriage is not that husband and wife love each other so much that they can recognize God in each other's lives, but more because God loves them so much that they can discover each other more and more as living reminder's of God's presence.
A marriage only works if one opens to exactly that which one would never ask for otherwise. Only through rubbing oneself sore and losing oneself is one able to learn about oneself, God, and the world. Like every soteriological pathway, that of marriage is hard and painful.
Georgie pretended to dance. She clung to Neal's shirt. They rubbed their noses together. "You're my wife," Neal said, and then he laughed, and she tried to catch his dimples with her teeth. (Like if she caught them she might get to keep them.)"Yours," she said.
At eleven, Kate woke Jake up when she went searching in the cooler for juice."You know, you used to be peaceful," he grumbled."I can't believe you were ever married." Kate said, as she cracked the can open. "What did you do, make her stand in the corner all the time?
They learned to live contently with small things, to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion, to be worthy not respectable, and to be rich not wealthy. They let the sacred and unconscious bloom amidst the common, rendering it all extraordinary.
No sooner met but they looked; no sooner looked but they loved; no sooner loved but they sighed; no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy; and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage...
I can't protect you from mean people, because they're everywhere, but I would be nice. That much, I can promise.""Fine," she said. "If I"m pregnant, you can marry me." He folded his harms and contemplated her motionlessly from the dark. Then said,"Not that nice.
Julie's cookery is actually improving," Paul wrote Charlie [his twin]. "I didn't quite believe it would, just between us, but it really is. It's simpler, more classical.... I envy her this chance. It would be such fun to be doing it at the same time with her.
So when modern-day religious conservatives wax nostalgic about how marriage is a sacred tradition that reaches back into history for thousands of uninterrupted years, they are absolutely correct, but in only one respect—only if they happen to be talking about Judaism.
Am I really admitting that my sister is determined to marry a man she has only seen once and doesn't much like the look of? It is half real and half pretense - and I have an idea that it is a game most girls play when they meet an eligible young men. They just...wonder.
Like the muscles knew from the beginning that it would end with this, this inevitable falling apart... It's sad, but a relief as well to know that two things so closely bound together can separate with so little violence, leaving smooth surfaces instead of bloody shreds.
I believe that. All divorce does is divert you, taking you away from everything you thought you knew and everything you thought u wanted and steering you into all kinds of other stuff, like discussions about your mother's girdle and whether she should marry someone else.
