"A husband wants to see a wife who has made herself as beautiful as she can, a woman who has poise and charm, who greets him lovingly and cheerfully, who studies his every mood, and can tell when he wants to talk and when he would like a complete rest.
"Peace in the home is really a woman's responsibility, and if she wants happiness, she must work for it--yes, and pay for it, too--by being at all times kind, self-sacrificing, ready to help, ready to serve, in fact loving to do anything the head of the house desires because his desires are also hers. And she must always remember that wisdom is made up of two parts: nine-tenths silence and one-tenth brevity."
"...There are many qualifications that a woman should have to be a good wife and mother, but the most important is patience--patience with children's and husband's tempers, patience with their misunderstanding, with their desires, with their actions."
(In regards to a husband throwing a mattress out the window instead of carrying it dowstairs carefully so it won't be soiled) "Will you rave and rant at him, call him a stupid creature who never does things right, or will you think. 'Oh, what's the use! The thing is done. Better make the best of it'? Always the latter if you can make yourself be calm. Even a slightly sarcastic remark will bring a disagreeable answer, and you'll wish you had not said a word."
"...A sure way to bring gloom is to show that your feelings are hurt. You cannot live long with any human being and not have something come up at times to irritate you. 'Offense we must expect. The question is what to do with it when it comes. And although we cannot help being hurt, what we can help is showing that we are hurt."
Father said, "No man should ever tell a joke or make a comment at the expense of his wife. He must be loyal to her above all else, if they are to have a happy and united relationship."
From Lawrence the son:
"In reading over these principles of human relationships as my mother wrote them, I can honestly say that I never observed either of my parents violate any of them in our home. Theirs was a remarkably loving and appreciative relationship.
And it was romantic. Mother always looked her best for Father. Even when both were in their eighties and nineties, Mother was conscious of her grooming. Whenever she was ill and confined to bed, she urged the nurse to "Hurry!' so that she could greet Father with her hair combed, her lipstick on, and her bed jacket pretty and fresh.
For Christmasses, wedding anniversaries, and birthdays, Father wrote Mother little love poems and she treasured them above any gift that he might buy her. She had a special box of inlaid wood in which she kept these poems. We still keep them in that box."
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