He would not admit…

that the difficulties with his wife had their origin in the rarified air of the house, but blamed them on the very nature of matrimony: an absurd invention that could exist only by the infinite grace of God. It was against all scientific reason for two people who hardly knew each other, with no ties at all between them, with different characters, different upbringings, and even different genders, to suddenly find themselves committed to living together, to sleeping in the same bed, to sharing two destinies that perhaps were fated to go in the opposite direction. He would say: “The problem with marriage is that it ends every night after making love, and it must be rebuilt every morning before breakfast.”

Love in the Time of Cholera-

Gabriel Garcia Marquez

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