My parents aren't married. And one of the reasons why they never got married is because they had been married before, and they liked it the way it was. They didn't feel like they needed a piece of paper to be committed. So for me, I know that marriage is not a golden ticket.
I wrote my first books when I was single and then I got married and then had a kid and there were different things happening in my life.
The church that is married to the spirit of this age, becomes a widow in the next.
Nobody ever wins by the cavalry coming to rescue you. It isn't a question of you're happy if you get married, or you get thin, or you get rich, because I've known lots of thin, rich, married people who are absolutely miserable.
A speculator is a man who, if he dies at the right time, has a rich widow.
Walnuts are so rich. I also love that you can chew them for five minutes. Then I eat a couple of golden raisins as a palate cleanser because they are really tart, and then more walnuts. It's a great snack for me.
The poor wish to be rich, the rich wish to be happy, the single wish to be married, and the married wish to be dead.
I wrote without much effort; for I was rich, and the rich are always respectable, whatever be their style of writing.
I wrote this book [ Desperate Marriages] because of my own marriage. My wife and I struggled greatly in the early years of marriage. In spite of the fact that we were Christians before we got married, we prayed about getting married, we believed it was God's will for us to get married, and we still had great struggles.
I've always thought that the most perfect fate which could befall any woman would be to be born a rich widow.
My mother never married my father. She was married to and divorced from another man, then she married and divorced my stepfather and then, ultimately, they ended up getting back together.
In the immediate aftermath of the separation I just wrote and wrote and wrote. And wrote and wrote and wrote. Thank God I had that as an outlet.
I had a fan who had a fictional relationship with me. She wrote letters to me and then wrote return letters to herself (from me). In her mind, we were married and had two children. Her parents finally uncovered this delusional life she was living and she got help.
Of the widow's countless death-duties there is really just one that matters: on the first anniversary of her husband's death the widow should think I kept myself alive.
I did not want to make the widow record. I still haven't made the widow record.
We got married in 1987; it was really Ross that wanted to get married. I had hoped I might find someone rich and never have to work again, and I could see that was not going to be the case with Ross.