Marriage (n.) works beautifully as a symbiosis between opposite types, so long as neither partner tries to understand the other psychologically.
Marriage (n.) often hides a sweet secret both spouses keep from each other: neither is altogether indispensable to the other.
Marriage (n.) can hold opposite types only back to back: introvert and extravert work side by side against necessity, and when the money comes they turn face to face and discover they never understood each other.
Marriage (n.) is often a little game of illusion: she proves he is no hero in private; he proves she is the inferior one; she cherishes having married a hero — taken for the whole meaning of life.
Marriage (n.) that is ideally exclusive often cloaks a search for the mother's protection — which gives the wife an illegitimate authority and keeps the union always on the brink of explosion.
Marriage (n.) became psychologically complicated when the partner grew strange enough to receive anima-animus projections — and so began to become a conscious relationship.
Marriage (n.) is, normally and in a sense, the child marrying the parents — continuity, a sane carrying of the past into the present; only too much or too little of it does harm.
Marriage (n.) manuals (n.) are a bad sign: when doctors start writing books on how to achieve the perfect marriage — healthy people need no doctors.
A Marriage (n.) that has no problem means one is not living in the present — and who shall say such people are not blessed!
Marriage (n.) can be wrecked for years, sometimes for good, because the husband sees his mother in his wife and the wife her father in him, and neither ever sees who the other really is.