Quotes for Events - Wedding Anniversary

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Quotes for wedding anniversary. Celebrating your anniversary? Here are some sallies to greet the occasion.

To me, fair friend, you never can be old. For as you were when first your eye I eyed. Such seems your beauty still.

Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made.
Wasn't marriage, like life, unstimulating and unprofitable and somewhat empty when too well ordered and protected and guarded? Wasn't it finer, more splendid, more nourishing, when it was, like life itself, a mixture of the sordid and the magnificent; of mud and stars; of earth and flowers; of love and hate and laughter and tears and ugliness and beauty and hurt.
Kissing don't last: cookery do!
True and false fears let us refrain; Let us love nobly, and live, and add again Years and years unto years, till we attain To write threescore; this is the second of our reign.
If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee; If ever wife was happy in a man, Compare with me, ye women, if you can. I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
Frequent visits, presents, intimate correspondence, and intermarriages within allowed bounds, are means of keeping up the concern and affection that nature requires from relations.
Marriage is the beginning and the end of all culture. It makes the savage mild; and the most cultivated has no better opportunity for displaying his gentleness. Indissoluble it must be, because it brings so much happiness that what small exceptional unhappiness it may bring counts for nothing in the balance.
Dear Ellen, many a golden year May ripe, then dim, thy beauty's bloom But never shall the hour appear In sunny joy, in sorrow's gloom, When aught shall hinder me from telling My ardent love, all loves excelling.
Ah, Lucy, life has swiftly sped From April to November; The summer blossoms all are shed That you and I remember; But while the vanished years we share With mingling recollections, How all their shadowy features wear The hue of old affections!
The noble lady's condition on these delightful occasions was one compounded of heroic endurance and heroic forgiveness. Lurid indications of the better marriages she might have made, shone athwart the awful gloom of her composure, and fitfully revealed the cherub as a little monster unaccountably favoured by Heaven, who had possessed himself of a blessing for which many of his superiors had sued and contended in vain. So firmly had this his position towards his treasure become established, that when the anniversary arrived, it always found him in an apologetic state.
I have now been married ten years. . . . I am my husband's life as fully as he is mine. . . . To talk to each other is but a more animated and an audible thinking.
The Silver Wedding! on some pensive ear From towers remote as sound the silvery bells, To-day from one far unforgotten year A silvery faint memorial music swells. And silver-pale the dim memorial light Of musing age on youthful joys is shed, The golden joys of fancy's dawning bright, The golden bliss of, Woo'd, and won, and wed.
True Love is but a humble, lowborn thing, And hath its food served up in earthen ware; It is a thing to walk with, hand in hand, Through the every-dayness of this work-day world.
Unto us all our days are love's anniversaries, each one In turn hath ripen'd something of our happiness.
Do you know many wives . . . who respect and admire their husbands? And yet they and their husbands get on very well. How many brides go to the altar with hearts that would bear inspection by the men who take them there? And yet it doesn't end unhappily--somehow or other the nuptial establishment jogs on. The truth is, that women try marriage as a Refuge, far more numerously than they are willing to admit; and, what is more, they find that marriage has justified their confidence in it.
Small is the trust when love is green In sap of early years; A little thing steps in between And kisses turn to tears. A while--and see how love be grown In loveliness and power! A while, it loves the sweets alone, But next it loves the sour.
You've lived with me these fifty years, And all the time you loved me dearly: I may have given you cause for tears: I may have acted rather queerly. I ceased to love you long ago: I loved another for a season: As time went on I came to know Your worth, my wife. . . .
Sometimes, I recollect, those twenty years with her had seemed long; but that was because, firstly, twenty years were long, and secondly because we are none of us perfect, and thirdly, because a wife, unless she is careful, is apt to get on one's nerves.
Husbands are things that wives have to get used to putting up with, And with whom they breakfast with and sup with. They interfere with the discipline of nurseries, And forget anniversaries.
For you wake one day, Look around and say Somebody wonderful Married me.
That we arrived at fifty years together is due as much to luck as to love, and a talent for knowing, when we stumble, where to fall, and how to get up again.
A husband has many, many ways of making a wife feel loved, but he almost never does it with champagne and roses. . . . I will happily settle for love in its many oblique and unglamorous manifestations, for "I love you" can be translated into his willingness to lace my ski boots, and to listen to my discussion of infant diarrhea.
When I was . . . little, my mother once told me that if a married couple puts a penny in a pot for every time they make love in the first year, and takes a penny out every time after that, they'll never get all the pennies out of the pot.

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