It will not do, my friend, to grant an easy indulgence to natural appetite and desire, for they ever seek to be our masters.

Even the heart in time may grow cold.

When custom has made familiar the charms that are most attractive, when youthful freshness has died away, and with the brightness of domestic life more and more shadows have mingled, then ... and not till then, can the wife say of the husband, He is worthy of love then, first, the husband say of the wife, She blooms in imperishable beauty.

A husband and wife should resolve never to wrangle with each other never to bandy words or indulge in the least ill-humour. Never! I say NEVER. Wrangling, even in jest, and putting on an air of ill-humour merely to tease, becomes earnest by practice.