the harsh truth of every relationship, even between those who love each other, like fathers and sons and daughters, or husbands and wives, is that the love is always unequal.
You men never change. Is that all you can see? Proud grandfathers of a large....” Mrs. Werner smacked her husband upside the head and took the pictures away.
, a brilliant scientist, happened to marry a still more brilliant one— , the famous —and is the only great scientist in history who is consistently identified as the husband of someone else.
She smiles at our husband as she moves, and he blushes, overcome by her beauty. But I know what her smile really means...Her smile is her revenge.
In the reflected gaze of his (her husband's) steady admiration, she saw the face of the girl he had fallen in love with.
whatever beauty she thought she might have possessed she realized had only been through her husband's assessment of her
I am a big popcorn fanatic. I love popcorn. In fact one year for my birthday, my husband bought me one of those big popcorn machines like they have in movie theaters.
Ten years from now, I would like to see myself successful as a brand, like Jessica Simpson, with babies running around and a beautiful husband and my own reality show.
My childhood was kind of complicated. I have an older sister, but my father, my mother's husband, died when I was four years old. So I only had my mum and sister, really.
{ } On behalf of 15,000 professional musicians, comprising the American Federation of Musicians, permit me to extend to you our heart-felt and most sincere sympathy in the irreparable loss of the model husband, father, and . .
My grandmother's first husband was a spiritualist medium. What fascinates me about that is the balance between conviction and sincerity and trickery, which is also something that novelists are very familiar with.
I want to strangle my husband and slam the door as I leave. I want to leave a box of pasta on the counter with a note that says, “cook your own dinner and suck your own dick.
In a way, my past gives me a little credibility. Not that anybody cares what I did nineteen years ago, but I did have a career, and a legitimate one, before I met my husband.
My husband is a former Air Force pilot and my son is an active duty Army surgeon, recently returned from Iraq, so my pride in our military is passionate... and personal.
I've had a lot of fun watching my husband's wonderful career as a filmmaker unfold and all the interesting places we've been and people we've met. It's just been a really enjoyable ride.
For me, writing a novel goes on for years, and the solitude goes on, too. It tends to swallow me at times. I know it's a problem when my husband sends the dog in to retrieve me.
I feel like a different person since my mum passed away, like I'm driving a ship with my husband alongside me and we're leading these four children into unknown waters.
I have no wish for a second husband. I had enough of the first. I like to have my own way to lie down mistress, and get up master.
If not to shape me into a better man; a better husband, a better father, a better son, a better brother, a better friend… then all of my experience, success, and education will have been a selfish waste.
I loved my husband very much, and it was heartbreaking to have him develop Alzheimer's disease, and to stand by and watch him decline in his ability to take care of himself.
It has not been an easy cross to bear. It has caused considerable confusion. My husband constantly complained about the awkwardness of being married to a woman whom he called Sister.
