Husband Quotes
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The fact that I've managed to find a husband who understands and respects everything I do is astonishing.
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You [can] become part of someone else's narrative. Every once in a while I would get people asking me questions like, "If your husband is a Muslim, then why haven't you converted to Islam?" Interestingly enough, almost every person who asked me that was a Sunni, and it was their not-so-subtle way of implying that my Shiite husband was a bad Muslim for letting his infidel wife run around unconverted.
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There are times I wish I was more conventional. I would get a husband and a baby and a big SUV in the 'burbs and be happy. But forging my own way - my career, my relationships with wonderful but troubled people - that's who I am.
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Well, if our author in the wife offendsHe has a husband that will make amends;He draws him gentle, tender, and forgiving,And sure such kind good creatures may be living.
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My husband and I try to spend some time every night that I'm home talking without distractions.
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My husband's a pediatrician, so he and I talk about parenting all the time. You can't raise children who have more shame resilience than you do.
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I love being under submission to my husband ... I believe in keeping the male ego intact.
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Being a husband and a dad are the two most important things in my life.
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That is my priority, that my son is healthy and happy. I will do whatever I can to ensure that, and my husband is the exact same way.
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I honestly never had the biological need to reproduce until I met my husband. But by the same token, even if we were unsuccessful, we were totally okay with adopting.
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I think any husband knows when to stand down when it comes to domestic disputes. After 13 years of marriage, I even think I may have it figured out.
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My grandmother flew only once in her life, and that was the day she and her new husband ascended into the skies of Victorian London in the wicker basket of a hot-air balloon. They were soon to emigrate to Canada, and the aerial ride was meant to be a last view of their beloved England.
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I think I'm going to give my baby her first food on Thanksgiving, make her some organic sweet potato. I'm very excited! It's going to be a big day and my husband is in charge of the turkey - he's the chef of the family!
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I got back into the position of taking care of my husband, which is what I'd learned that I couldn't really do: you can love and make things okay to a certain extent, but you can't fix. I didn't quite learn that until the kayaking incident. It became so clear then.
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My husband, Gabriele, is a musician, and I love music, so you can bet it's a really important part of our home entertaining repertoire, even if it means Gabriele making a really good playlist for a dinner party.
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If the husband sits on a chair in the Garden of Eden, his wife is his footstool.
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Hinde Esther Singer was born in Poland on March 31, 1881, the daughter of Bathsheva and Pinchos Mendel Singer. Bathsheva was an intellectual, but both Bathsheva's father and her husband disapproved of erudite women.
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Mrs. B. and two young women were of the same party, except when Mrs. B. thought herself obliged to leave them to run round the room after her drunken husband. His avoidance, and her pursuit, with the probable intoxication of both, was an amusing scene.
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The Palestine I know is a place where Christians and Muslims are equal. My mother, a Muslim village girl, attended a Catholic girls' school in Ramallah, and my refugee husband spent the Second Intifada side by side with his Christian brothers from Bethlehem.
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I had a husband who stayed with me, and small children, and I had no choice but to pull myself together and rebuild a different kind of life. There was no other choice.
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My husband says I can do anything I put my mind to, but the truth i, the only thing I want to do is act.
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My beloved husband goes through radiation, and a book of sonnets is my passionate response. And then after he dies, I write another book of poems as a farewell. The two keywords here are passion and joy. I simply have a passion for writing, and I do it with joy.
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My husband is from Florence. And he has a 15th-century barn that is completely rustic and very 'Green Acres'-like.
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One of my most vivid memories of the mid-1950s is of crying into a washbasin full of soapy grey baby clothes - there were no washing machines - while my handsome and adored husband was off playing football in the park on Sunday morning with all the delightful young men who had been friends to both of us at Cambridge three years earlier.
