Relationship With My Bed Quotes & Sayings

Each one of us has a relationship with our own ignorance, a dishonest, complicated relationship, and that dishonesty keeps us sane, happy, and willing to get out of bed in the morning. — Anonymous

I'd like to destroy you a few times in bed. — Ernest Hemingway,

But I can be alone without Yoko, but I just have no wish to be. There's no reason on earth why I should be alone without Yoko. There's nothing more important than our relationship, nothing. And we dig being together all the time. Both of us could survive apart but what for? I'm not going to sacrifice love, real love for any whore or any friend or any business, because in the end you're alone at night and neither of us want to be. And you can't fill a bed with groupies. It doesn't work. I don't want to be a swinger. I've been through it all and nothing works better than to have someone you love hold you. — John Lennon

I poke myself in the eye. "Would you stop touching yourself?" I drop the mascara tube on the table and pick up a tissue to wipe the smear of black I just made at the inside corner of my eyelid because I can't keep my fricking eyes off Dean.

"What's wrong, baby? You jealous? I was thinking of how hot you look." He rolls to his side. "You make a little circle with your mouth when you put your eye makeup on. It's basically begging me to stick my dick in there."

Nope, there's nothing warm and squishy about my relationship with this guy. I shoot him a disbelieving glance. "We just got done having morning sex," I remind him. I apply two quick swipes of the mascara before Dean's hand can do more damage under the bed sheets.

"That was thirty minutes ago. Since then, you've showered, waved your tits and bare ass in front of me getting dressed, and then made little blowjob circles with your mouth. So yeah, I'm horny again. Sue me. — Elle Kennedy

It makes me sick, the way sadness is addicting. The way I can't stop. Sadness is familiar. It's comfortable and it's easy in a sense that it comes naturally to me. But everything else about it is hard. The way my body aches with self-hatred. The way my mind spins and spins with hopeless thoughts. The way it poisons everything I do, every relationship I have. Yet it's addicting, because I know sadness, and I know it very well. And there's a sort of comfort in that, like being home after a trip or sleeping in your own bed after being away. There's just a sense that this is where I belong. This is how it's supposed to be. — Marianna Paige

Clyde had a theory that women had a book, a homemade, photocopied three-ring binder called "Surprising Things to Do in a Relationship," which they passed around to one another, adding pages from time to time, hiding it under the bed. He figured that Desiree could run home tonight and add a new page. — Neal Stephenson

When Aaron arrived at my place - a ground-floor studio fitting my full-size bed, desk, and TV - he came bearing gifts: The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron and two red tension balls. "I figure they'll help you relax and write," he said. We watched my favorite relationship — Janet Mock

Don't deny that you have feelings for this girl! We've seen it!" Andrew said.
"Hush, you're annoying," Oliver muttered. "I assure you that my relationship with Sophie doesn't overstep the boundaries of friendship, not that it's any of your business. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to ask her politely and cordially to come and sleep in my bed. — Zeinab Alayan

We fought about it endlessly. He even went as far as to set up meetings with prominent girls in our social circle, attempting to make me a one woman man with a purposeful relationship. When I would bed these girls and leave them, Grandfather finally gave up. — Sadie Grubor

It was cruel," said Dumbledore softly, "that you and Sirius had such a short time together. A brutal ending to what should have been a long and happy relationship."
Harry nodded, his eyes fixed resolutely on the spider now climbing Dumbledore's hat. He could tell that Dumbledore understood, that he might even suspect that until his letter arrived Harry had spent nearly all his time at the Dursleys' lying on his bed, refusing meals and staring at the misted window, full of the chill emptiness that he had come to associate with the Dementors.
"It's just hard," Harry said finally, in a low voice, "to realise he won't write to me again. — J.K. Rowling

One aspect of Samantha's personality that drove me nuts was her tendency to reveal herself via literary allusions. She called it a quirk, but it was more of a compulsion. Her mother was Lady Macbeth; her father, Big Daddy. An uncle she liked was Mr. Micawber, a favorite governess, Jane Eyre; a doting professor, Mr. Chips.
This curious habit of hers quickly made the voyage from eccentric to bizarre when she began to invoke the names of literary characters to describe moments in our relationship. When she thought I was treating her rudely, she called me Wolf Larsen; if I was standoffish, I was Mr. Darcy; when I dressed too shabbily, I was Tom Joad.
Once, in bed, she yelled out the name Victor as she approached orgasm. I assumed she was referring to Victor Hugo because she'd been reading 'Les Miserables.'. It didn't really bother me that much though it was a little odd being with a woman who thought she was having sex with a dead French author. — John Blumenthal

Off with you," he said. "Sleep will heal your wounds." She paused. "Does this mean we're going to be amicable now?" "Call it a temporary truce. Now go to bed." "Is that a command?" He had the feeling the correct response was "nay." That was not the answer he cared to give, however, so he merely pointed toward the bed and glared at her. "You know, I could help you with your man/woman relationship skills," she said. "You could stand to become familiar with a woman's perspective." "Spew none of your womanly nonsense at me, lady, nor," he said, sitting up and frowning, "nor any of that future foolishness, for I believe it not. — Lynn Kurland

I was 50 years old and hadn't been to bed with a woman for four years. I had no women friends. I looked at them as I passed them on the streets or wherever I saw them, but I looked at them without yearning and with a sense of futility. I masturbated regularly, but the idea of having a relationship with a woman- even on non-sexual terms-was beyond my imagination. — Charles Bukowski

Let's go to bed. Those four words differentiate a marriage from every other kind of relationship. We aren't going to find a way to agree, but let's go to bed. Not because we want to, but because we have to. We hate each other right now, but let's go to bed. It's the only one we have. Let's go to our sides, but the sides of the same bed. Let's retreat into ourselves, but together. How many conversations had ended with those four words? How many fights? — Jonathan Safran Foer

Good luck on your test."
"I'm gonna ace it for sure!" I said, rolling to Wesley's side of the
bed and pulling the sheet up.
"Don't I know it," he smiled, and then slapped the doorframe. "Oh
yeah. If Gus calls, just tell him I was balls-deep in your ass and that I'm
on my way now. — J.M. Colail

Never give up. Things will get hard. No relationship is easy. You have to work through your problems as if tomorrow isn't guaranteed, because it's not. Never go to bed angry and always make sure you say I love you every chance you get. — Teresa Mummert

To put it another way, every love relationship is based upon unwritten conventions rashly agreed upon by the lovers during the first weeks of their love. On the one hand, they are living a sort of dream; on the other, without realizing it, they are drawing up the fine print of their contracts like the most hard-nosed of lawyers. O lovers! Be wary during those perilous first days! If you serve the other party breakfast in bed, you will be obliged to continue same in perpetuity or face charges of animosity and treason! — Milan Kundera

Basically, I've reached the point where I've lost any direct relationship to any of the editors I used to have. I suspect I'll have to pay to publish this myself, and I think a lot about about putting out fifty copies. I used to think about hogwash like my legacy and silly things like that. But I feel like if I never have another book out, I've done okay, I've had like twelve or thirteen little books, and I won't be upset about this on my death bed. — Richard Meltzer

He hadn't wooed her, but had simply claimed her. A gold mine ready to dig. There should have been a period of quiet dinners together, of flowers rather than diamonds, of kisses given after permission to kiss, of a slow awakening that predisposed her to greater intimacies. But no, not the great Alexander Kinross! He had met her, he had married her the next day, and climbed into her bed after one kiss in the church. There to prove himself an animal in her eyes. One mistake after another, that was the story of his relationship with Elizabeth. And Ruby had always meant more. — Colleen McCullough

It's kind of like this," Decker said: "You wake up in the middle of the night and you're dying for a glass of milk. So you stumble out of bed, stub your toe in the darkness, scream with pain, and limp your way to the refrigerator. You open it up and the light is brilliant. You're saved. Then you fold back the paper container, open up the milk, take a deep breath, and put it to your lips. Only
yhrch!
the milk is spoiled. Sure, you're bummed. You fold the thing close and put it back in the fridge. It's dark again. But as you're making your way to your lonely old bed, you think to yourself, Wait a minute, maybe that milk wasn't so bad. And I am still thirsty? So you do an about-face and go back to the fridge. The light warms you up again. You take a sip and yup, it's still spoiled. That, to me, is the fitting metaphor for most every relationship I've ever been in. — Ethan Hawke

I had a very difficult relationship with my mother. She used to wake me up in the middle of the night if I wasn't sleeping straight and was messing up the sheets. Now when I stay in hotels I sleep so straight they don't even think I've used the bed. — Marina Abramovic

That was the thing about love, I'd discovered. It wasn't about having a blissfully wonderful relationship where everything was always sunshine and roses. No matter how pure and beautiful your love was, life could be cruel and ugly. It would throw things at your relationship when you were tired and broke. It would be strained and tested through the worst of storms. Real love, though, the kind that saw couples live through sixty years of World Wars and recessions and still let them stare at each other on their death bed with the same devotion that they felt on their wedding day, love like that, well, it lasted forever. — R.J. Prescott

Drawing and painting is like a quickie in bed. Were as novel writing is a long term relationship, much more fulling. — Tara Dobbs

It feels good to think about you when I'm warm in bed. I feel as if you're curled up there beside me, fast asleep. And I think how great it would be if it were true. — Haruki Murakami

Later, as I attempted to lean over the high sides of the hospital
bed to kiss David, I couldn't reach either his forehead or his lips, so
I began kissing the length of his arm.
"I love you," I told him before I was ready to leave for the night.
His beautiful brown eyes locked with mine.
"Thank you," he replied simply, grabbing hold of my hand with
his. I brought it to my lips in response.
Thank you, as if my love were a great gift to him, when all along
his love was the gift to me. — Mary Potter Kenyon

I begin to learn there are certain things I shouldn't tell her. Like when we meet boys at Dorrian's and I give mine a blow job, or the time I messed around with a boy in the back near the bathrooms. Amy wants to be intimate with boys too, but to her this kind of conduct is slutty. I suppose it is. She, like most girls, including the Jennifers, has a different relationship to boys than I do. She engages in sexual acts with them if she wants, but from my vantage point it looks like she can take them or leave them if they are not just right. She considers whether she actually likes someone before she jumps into bed with him. She isn't wracked with anxiety when there aren't any boys around. And she doesn't need them to live, which is what it feels like for me. — Kerry Cohen

We walk until there aren't more houses, all the way to the part of the beach where the current makes the waves come in then rush back out so that the two waves clash, water casting up like a geyser. We watch that for a while and then Scottie says, "I wish Mom was here." I'm thinking the exact same thought. That's how you know you love someone, I guess, when you can't experience anything without wishing the other person were there to see it, too. Every day I kept track of anecdotes, occurrences, and gossip, bullet-pointing the news in my head and even rehearsing my stories before telling them to Joanie in bed at night. — Kaui Hart Hemmings

All you did was wreck my bed and in the morning kick me in the head. — Rod Stewart

His relationship with illness was flirtatious; only a particularly attractive ailment could tempt him into bed. — Sam Byers

Sometimes I worry about how attached I am to this dog. About the fact that the primary relationship of my life is with a canine. That at the end of a terrible day I look forward to nothing more than coming home and lying on the bed, under the covers, with a giant Great Dane. — Eve Marie Mont

A death in reverse is the rewinding of life. I do not die of old age,
in a bed surrounded by strangers my loved ones paid to take care of me.
I die in reverse.
I die falling back
into a younger age.
From my forty-five years to twenty-five.
To sixteen. When we were in love.
To fourteen: when we first met.
To five.
To one.
To the hospital my mother died at
from the complications of my existence.
A life for a life. — F.K. Preston

The protagonist, Amanda, discusses her sex relationship with her husband, John Paul
As long as it's done with honesty and grace, John Paul doesn't mind if I go to bed with other men. Or with other girls, as is sometimes my fancy. What has marriage got to do with it? Marriage is not a synonym for monogamy any more than monogamy is a synonym for ideal love. To live lightly on the earth, lovers and families must be more flexible and relaxed. The ritual of sex releases its magic inside or outside the marital bond. I approach that ritual with as much humility as possible and perform it whenever it seems appropriate. As for John Paul and me, a strange spurt of semen is not going to wash our love away. — Tom Robbins

Just before I look under my bed, I always get a little cold feeling, as if part of me expects to find something staring back at me.
I've probably seen too many Hollywood movies to have any hopes of ever cultivating a healthy relationship with the underside of my bed. — Graham Parke

The very first picture that came up on the camera's little view screen was of him.
What did that mean that she'd kept this picture of him?
Was it because she still cared?
Or had she saved it as a warning? Like, "Never forget how completely screwed up your relationship was with this loser ... "
It wasn't a particularly good picture. In fact, it was pretty embarrassing.
Sitting up in his bed, Max was in his room at Sheffield. It was the photo Gina had taken the day after he'd arrived there. He looked like crap warmed over after his very first physical therapy session, and he was glowering into the camera because he goddamn didn't want his picture taken. — Suzanne Brockmann

Republican-controlled bank in the city. Plenty of Republicans were inherently suspicious of banks, but many would welcome the opportunity to use one that didn't require them to get into bed with their political enemies. Hamilton was infuriated when he realized how Burr had used him. Once the company had received its charter, it abandoned all pretense of providing the city with clean water, instead laying in a pipe system that transported the contaminated well water around the city. This incident perhaps marked the turning point in Hamilton's relationship with Burr; friendly despite their political differences, the most famous duel in American history lay in their future, and only one of them would survive it. The — Michael W. Simmons

This was a relationship I wanted to savor, and put ahead of the demands of my job or anything else tugging at my time and attention. I now had a new first priority.

But there was something more at work here, something mysterious welling up inside me. It wasn't that I hadn't been told that becoming a grandmother was the best thing that ever happens to a woman. But what I couldn't get over was the physicality of my feelings. When I got into bed at night I would pretend I was holding the baby in my arms. I was infatuated. Dare I say it? It felt like - ardor. — Lesley Stahl

Places come to exist in our imaginations because of stories, and so do we. When we reach for a "sense of place," we posit an intimate relationship to a set of stories connected to a particular location, such as Hong Kong or the Grand Canyon or the bed where we were born, thinking of histories and the evolution of personalities in a local context. Having "a sense of self" means possessing a set of stories about who we are and with whom and why. — William Kittredge

(...)

That winter you left me snow-blind trying to find enough details that would let you know that even though some people have perfect sight,
those same people could try to paint you by numbers and they still wouldn't get you right.
You were Monet number two and Van Gogh number 6,
a mix tape of Hendrix and Leibowitz portraits.

It makes no sense to me that we were ever together.
And my makeshift weather reports were the closest I ever came to telling you how I felt.
But you were a lover of the minuscule,
you dealt best with details.
Weighing our relationship on scales you balanced us out, and always made me feel needed.

You always asked me what to wear,
and I would stare at you as if for a second I wouldn't answer.
Of course, I always did.
Hid my affections, and my response:
"wear that smile" I said.
That one you wear when you see me.
That one you wear to bed. — Shane L. Koyczan

I like all of the early relationship strips that were collected in 'Love Is Hell,' where I pretended to be an expert in relationships and did comics like 'The Nine Types of Boyfriends,' 'Sixteen Ways to End a Relationship,' 'Twenty-Four Things Not to Say in Bed,' and other arbitrarily numbered lists. — Matt Groening

Back to what? A guy who bails on you when you need him? What's Dane doing now that's more important than helping you? Fighting for the rights of endangered ferns?"
I stiffened and pushed away from him, irritation jolting me out of my fugue-state. "You have no right to judge Dane or my relationship with him."
Jack made a scoffing sound. "That half-assed excuse for a relationship was over the moment Dane told you not to bring the baby to Austin. You know what he should have said? ... 'Hell, yes, Ella, I'll stand by you no matter what you do. Shit happens. We'll make it work. Come home now and get in bed. — Lisa Kleypas

So we live in two worlds: one characterized by social exchanges and the other characterized by market exchanges. And we apply different norms to these two kinds of relationships. Moreover, introducing market norms into social exchanges, as we have seen, violates the social norms into social exchanges, as we have seen, violates the social norms and hurts the relationships. Once this type of mistake has been committed, recovering a social relationship is difficult. Once you've offered to pay for the delightful Thanksgiving dinner, your mother-in-law will remember the incident for years to come. And if you've ever offered a potential romantic partner the chance to cut to the chase, split the cost of the courting process, and simply go to bed, the odds are that you will have wrecked the romance forever. — Dan Ariely

We have forgotten how to have fun. We unlearn fun. Every interaction with women should be infused with fun. This includes the way we meet, the way we date, the way we are together in bed, and the way we are together in relationship. If it isn't fun, what's the point? If it isn't fun, it needs to be left behind. Because... why not? We are treasure hunters, adventurers, raconteurs, are we not? — Zan Perrion

Authors often say that their novels are like their children, and you want your novel, just like your children, to reflect well on you. When it goes out into the world, you hope that it will make you proud. But like a parent, an author must learn that her novel has needs of its own, and they are not the same as the author's.
Yes, you want your son's behavior toward women to reflect a loving relationship with his mother. However, if a woman is compelled to think about that relationship whenever they're in bed together, something has gone very very wrong. — Howard Mittelmark

Is your relationship strong enough to survive a trip to Ikea? Is their furniture strong enough to survive a relationship? Have you ever bought a bed there? — Greg Gutfeld

Being apart was wrong. Simply lying side by side did more for a relationship than words. A warm bed, a nest of animal intimacy. Words could be misunderstood, whereas loving companionship bred trust. — Michel Faber

My dearest friend, Myron Bolitar, though "friend" seems an inadequate word to describe our relationship, worries about this aspect of my personality. He feels there is something "missing" inside of me. He traces it back to what my own mother did to my father. But does the origin matter? This is what I am. I am quite content this way. He claims that I don't get it. He is wrong. I do understand the need for companionship. My favorite times are when he and I sit around together and simply discuss life or watch television or dissect a sporting event - and then, when we are done, I go to bed with a gorgeous body and, uh, gorge. Does — Harlan Coben

Syn was new to relationships Furi had no doubt he could keep him spellbound indefinitely. He would show the gorgeous specimen stretched out beneath him how beautiful it is to be a gay man in a committed relationship. He'd hoped the scene tonight at God and Day's didn't dissuade him. Furi didn't need any more cocks in bed with them. While it could be fun, not all gay men played with other couples. One man was enough for Furi. Syn was man enough for Furi. He'd show him every day if he'd let him. Syn would be able to trust him with his heart and his body, knowing there was no way he'd hurt him. And he secretly hoped Syn felt the same way. "Furi, — A.E. Via

What should we do?, I asked, and I had a pained feeling I thought was the beginning of love.
In those early months we clung to each other with a rather silly desperation, because, in spite of everything my mother or Mrs Jordan could say, there was nothing that really prevented us from seeing each other. With imagined tragedy hovering over us, we became inseparable, two halves creating the whole: yin and yang. I was victim to his hero. I was always in danger and he was always rescuing me. I would fall and he would lift me up. It was exhilarating and draining. The emotional effect of saving and being saved was addicting to both of us. And that, as much as anything we ever did in bed, was how we made love to each other: conjoined where my weaknesses needed protection. — Amy Tan

Roen snorted. "You two have the strangest relationship in the Dells."
Archer smiled slightly. "She won't consent to make it a marriage."
"I can't imagine what's stopping her. I don't suppose you've considered being less munificent with your love?"
"Would you marry me, Fire, if I slept in no one's bed but yours?"
He knew the answer to that, but it didn't hurt to remind him. "No, and I should find my bed quite cramped. — Kristin Cashore

This is the sad bed of chosen chastity because you are miles and mountains away. — Erica Jong

Sex does not enrich or deepen a relationship, it permanently cheapens and destabilises one. Everyone I know who is unfortunate enough to have a sex-mate, joy-partner, bed-friend, love-chum, call them what you will finds that
after a week or two of long blissful afternoons of making the beast with two backs, or the beast with one back and a funny shaped middle or the beast with legs splayed in the air and arms gripping the sides of the mattress
the day dawns when Partner A is keen for more swinking, grinding, and sweating and Partner B would rather turn over and catch up with Jeeves and Bertie. — Stephen Fry

We were prime examples of the age old debate: nature versus nurture. I'd been brought up around muscle cars and crescent wrenches, and he'd been surrounded by neon lights and stilettos. In all likelihood, I should've been straight as an arrow, and Frank would've ended up as a showgirl. Yet, he was the top, if only in bed. We both knew who wore the pants in the relationship, even though they were big on me because they were his. — Nicole Castle

Should I string her up or strangle her in bed, suffocate that venomous head? Or perhaps I'll just whip her to death. Listen, do me a favor, kill my wife. — Rod Stewart

Politics is not really different from marriage. You cannot get things done in your relationship if you tell your wife: Look, if you haven't made the bed and if you don't get the food on the table, I will go and just hire someone and you will become irrelevant. That is not how you make a marriage work. — Arnold Schwarzenegger

With these surface waters, through a series of delicately adjusted, interlocking relationship, the life of all parts of the sea is linked. What happens to a diatom in the upper, sunlit strata of the sea may well determine what happens to a cod lying on a ledge of some rocky canyon a hundred fathoms below, or to a bed of multicolored, gorgeously plumed seaworms carpeting an underlying shoal. or to a prawn creeping over the soft oozes of the sea floor in the balckness of mile-deep water. — Rachel Carson

Standing over his bed, watching him sleep, Luce could see it. The way their love would have bloomed here.She could see Lucia coming in to bring Daniel his meals,him opening up to her slowly. The pair being inseparable by the time Daniel recovered. And it made her feel jealous and guilty and confused because she couldn't tell right now whether their love was a beautiful thing, or whether this was yet another instance of how very wrong it was.
If she was so young when they met, they must have had a long relationship in this life.She would have gotten to spend years with him before it happened. Before she died and was reincarnated into another life completely. She must have thought they'd spend forever together-and must not even have known how long forever meant.
But Daniel knew.He always knew. — Lauren Kate

Chemistry is about how your partner makes you feel. It's more than that initial "clicking" you may feel with your partner in the first 10 minutes of dating. It's about what it's like to go on a car ride with them. It's about what it's like to have dinner with them. It's about how that person is in bed. It's about how they kiss. It's how you feel when you're away from them, pondering your relationship. — Philip Dhingra

There is a tendency to treat our relationship with Jesus like the diet we keep meaning to start. I'm going to start eating right, as soon as I finish off this chicken chimichanga. Tomorrow for sure. We treat our relationship with Jesus like the workout program we keep meaning to start. We go to bed telling ourselves, "Tomorrow I'm going to wake up early and exercise." But the following night we find ourselves getting into bed promising, "Tomorrow for sure. — Kyle Idleman

Yes. What is it, guilt, revenge, love, what?"
I swallowed. "I live alone."
"And your point is?"
"You have the Pack. You're surrounded by people who would fall over themselves for the pleasure of your company. I have no one. My parents are dead, my entire family is gone. I have no friends. Except Jim, and that's more of a working relationship than anything else. I have no lover. I can't even have a pet, because I'm not at the house often enough to keep it from starving. When I come crawling home, bleeding and filthy and exhausted, the house is dark and empty. Nobody keeps the porch light on for me. Nobody hugs me and says, 'Hey, I'm glad you made it. I'm glad you're okay. I was worried.' Nobody cares if I live or die. Nobody makes me coffee, nobody holds me before I go to bed, nobody fixes my medicine when I'm sick. I'm by myself. — Ilona Andrews

In her head is war
All the time just war
I put her to bed
I bring peace to the world — Darnell Lamont Walker

Stunned, I sat down on the bed, reading the message over and over again, convinced I had misunderstood it in some way. I couldn't believe that Jack would have written something so cruel or been so cutting. He had never spoken to me in such a way before, he had never even raised his voice to me. I felt as if I'd been slapped in the face. Surely I deserved some explanation and, at the very least, an apology? I needed to talk to someone, badly, so it was sobering to realise there was no one I could call. My parents and I didn't have the sort of relationship that would allow me to sob down the phone that he had left me by myself and for some reason I felt too ashamed to tell any of my friends. Where had the perfect gentleman I'd thought him to be gone? Had it all been a facade, had he covered his true self with a cloak of geniality and good humour to impress me? — B.A. Paris

I'd simplified and objectified our relationship into one of lust and boundaries, and while both were necessary for a good relationship, it took a lot more than that to make it an epic one. Things we had, like respect and trust, but also freely expressed desires and accountability to whatever degree it took to make both people happy. It took work, a willingness to fight passionately and fairly - out of bed, not just in it - commitment and honesty. It took waking up and saying each day, I hold this man sacred and always will. He's my sun, moon, and stars. It took letting the other person in; a thing I'd stopped doing. It took being unafraid to ask for what you wanted, to put yourself on the line, to risk it all for love. We — Karen Marie Moning

In every bed you will find four persons sleeping together. It is very rare to find a double bed, because then four persons are there overcrowding it. The wife is there and the ego, and the husband is there and the ego - husband is hidden behind his ego, wife is hidden behind her ego, and those two egos go on making love. The real contact never happens. — Rajneesh

Couples stray," said Edgar. "Part of the breaking-in process."
"Not breaking in, breaking." Nicola differed sharply. "You can glue people together again. But then your relationship's like any other repaired object, with cracks, blobs of epoxy, a little askew. It's never the same. I can see you haven't a notion what I'm on about, so you'll have to take my word for it."
"Christ, you're a babe in the woods." Edgar stopped slicing tomatoes. "You got it ass-backward. A marriage perched like porcelain on the mantelpiece is doomed. Sooner or later grown-ups treat each other like shit. You gotta be able to kick the thing around, less like china than an old shoe - bam, under the bed, or walk it through some puddles. No love's gonna last it if can't take abuse. — Lionel Shriver