Fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger.
I will be master of what is mine own: She is my goods, my chattels; she is my house, My household stuff, my field, my barn, My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing.
This is a way to kill a wife with kindness.
I have thrust myself into this maze, Haply to wive and thrive as best I may.
The curse of marriage That we can call these delicate creatures ours And not their appetites!
Thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife!
In love the heavens themselves do guide the state; Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate.
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
Hasty marriage seldom proveth well.
For what is wedlock forced but a hell, An age of discord and continual strife? Whereas the contrary bringeth bliss, And is a pattern of celestial peace.