I would advise no man to marry who is not likely to propagate understanding.

Such is the common process of marriage. A youth and maiden exchange meeting by chance, or brought together by artifice, exchange glances, reciprocate civilities, go home, and dream of one another. Having little to divert attention, or diversify thought, they find themselves uneasy when they are apart, and therefore conclude that they shall be happy together. They marry, and discover what nothing but voluntary blindness had before concealed; they wear out life in altercations, and charge nature with cruelty.

By taking a second wife he pays the highest compliment to the first, by showing that she made him so happy as a married man, that he wishes to be so a second time.

The triumph of hope over experience.

Bachelors have consciences, married men have wives.

A married man has many cares, but a bachelor no pleasures.

It is not from reason and prudence that people marry, but from inclination.

A man of sense and education should meet a suitable companion in a wife. It is a miserable thing when the conversation can only be such as whether the mutton should be boiled or roasted, and probably a dispute about that.

There is, indeed, nothing that so much seduces reason from vigilance, as the thought of passing life with an amiable woman.