One Can Lie, But Truth Is More

It's Not Till Sex Has Died Out Between A Man And A Woman That They Can Really Love. And Now I Mean Affection. Now I Mean To Be Fond Of (as One Is Fond Of Oneself) --to Hope, To Be Disappointed, To Live Inside The Other Heart.

Marriage. The Beginning And The End Are Wonderful. But The Middle Part Is Hell.

From Birth To Death We Are Alone.

In Marriage There Are No Manners To Keep Up, And Beneath The Wildest Accusations No Real Criticism. Each Is Familiar With That Ancient Child In The Other Who May Erupt Again. We Are Not Ridiculous To Ourselves. We Are Ageless. That Is The Luxury Of The Wedding Ring.

I Don't Like People," Said Velvet. "... I Only Like Horses.