I hadn't been in Vegas 20 minutes when I got word that the bookmakers were offering three to one that Frank wouldn't show for my wedding.
I just wrapped this movie called The Wedding Crashers which was a pretty big break for me.
A wedding is a funeral where you smell your own flowers.
For years my wedding ring has done its job. It has led me not into temptation. It has reminded my husband numerous times at parties that it's time to go home. It has been a source of relief to a dinner companion. It has been a status symbol in the maternity ward.
My grandfather Frank Lloyd Wright wore a red sash on his wedding night. That is glamour!
No wedding bells for me anymore. I've been happily married to my profession for years.
In marriage there are no manners to keep up, and beneath the wildest accusations no real criticism. Each is familiar with that ancient child in the other who may erupt again. We are not ridiculous to ourselves. We are ageless. That is the luxury of the wedding ring.
My face looks like a wedding-cake left out in the rain.
She tells enough white lies to ice a wedding cake.
I'll get pretty much everything the way I want it. I've always dreamed of a beach wedding.
A woman seldom asks advice before she has bought her wedding clothes.