And yet another moral occurs to me now: Make love when you can. It's good for you.
The problem with marriage is that it ends every night after making love, and it must be rebuilt every morning before breakfast.
What do I care how 'e looks? I am good-looking enough for both of us, I theenk! All these scars show is zat my husband is brave!.
I mean, it's not surprising, really. Once you love something, you always love it in some way. You have to. It's, like, part of you for good.
I have been loving you a little more every minute since this morning.
Fight for the only thing she knew was good enough, noble enough, powerful enough to be worth risking everything... Love.
I haven't had that one great love, which is good. I don't want that to be in the past, I want it to be in the future.
Sometimes you have to learn to love what's good for you.
What’s wrong is that every morning and every night, I lie in bed wondering why you’re not beside me.
If there is such a thing as a good marriage, it is because it resembles friendship rather than love.
Love Jo all your days, if you choose, but don't let it spoil you, for it's wicked to throw away so many good gifts because you can't have the one you want.
You've got to have someone who loves your body. Who doesn't define you, but sees you. Who loves what he sees. Who you don't have to struggle to be good enough for.