A few rules for Married Happiness.

The wonder is that not being gods—being mere men and women—marriage works out as well as it does.  We take two creatures with the instincts of the ape still stirring within them; two creatures fashioned on the law of selfishness; two self-centred creatures of opposite appetites, of desires opposed to one another, of differing moods and fancies; two creatures not yet taught the lesson of self-control, of self-renunciation, and bind them together for life in an union so close that one cannot snore o’nights without disturbing the other’s rest; that one cannot, without risk to happiness, have a single taste unshared by the other; that neither, without danger of upsetting the whole applecart, so to speak, can have an opinion with which the other does not heartedly agree.

Could two angels exist together on such terms without ever quarrelling?  I doubt it.  To make marriage the ideal we love to picture it in romance, the elimination of human nature is the first essential.  Supreme unselfishness, perfect patience, changeless amiability, we should have to start with, and continue with, until the end.