An affair now and then is good for a marriage. It adds spice

In the words of Bette Davis, “An affair now and then is good for a marriage. It adds spice, stops it from getting boring... I ought to know.” These words strike like fire, daring and dangerous, for they speak openly of what many only whisper. Davis, the great actress of the golden age of Hollywood, was no stranger to scandal, heartbreak, and the complexities of human desire. Her words are not those of a preacher but of a survivor of love’s battlefield, who had known betrayal and passion alike. In this saying, she challenges the traditional sanctity of marriage, suggesting that the unpredictable storms of infidelity might, paradoxically, rekindle what routine threatens to extinguish.

The ancients often spoke of desire as both a blessing and a curse. The Greeks told of Aphrodite, who brought both love and ruin, and of Paris, whose pursuit of passion kindled the Trojan War. Desire can enliven the human spirit, but it can also burn down homes and kingdoms. Davis, in her boldness, acknowledges this dual truth: that the monotony of marriage can dull the heart, and that stepping beyond boundaries—even in reckless ways—can jolt life back into flame. Yet beneath her words lies irony and pain, for the actress herself bore the scars of tumultuous relationships. Her proclamation is less a universal law than a reflection of her own battle-worn heart.

Consider history’s tale of Catherine the Great of Russia. Her reign was marked by immense power, yet her private life was filled with rumors of affairs and shifting lovers. Some said these relationships kept her spirit alive, feeding her vitality even in the cold court of politics. But others whispered of scandal, mocking her legacy with tales that overshadowed her achievements. Here, as with Davis’s words, we see the tension: what may bring spice and fire to one life can bring ruin and dishonor to another. The truth of infidelity cannot be judged in simple terms; it is a force as wild as fire, capable of warmth or destruction.

The deeper meaning of Davis’s words may not be an endorsement of betrayal, but a warning against complacency. For what she truly speaks of is the danger of boredom in human unions. A marriage built only on routine, without renewal of passion, without surprise or mystery, can wither like a flower deprived of water. Her daring statement may cloak a more ancient truth: that partners must continually strive to keep their bond alive, lest the heart wander in search of fire elsewhere.

Her confession, “I ought to know,” carries the weight of personal testimony. It suggests that Davis had lived this truth, or at least believed she had seen its effects in her own life. In this lies a lesson in humility for all: we should not take her words as commandment, but as the cry of a soul who wrestled with love’s contradictions. The ancients taught that wisdom often comes wrapped in paradox. Perhaps Davis, with all her trials, meant not that an affair is the answer, but that passion—risk, danger, vitality—is essential for love to remain alive.

The lesson for us is clear: do not allow your unions to fall into lifeless habit. If passion fades, seek to restore it—not with betrayal, but with renewal. Surprise your partner. Cherish them anew. Dare to adventure together, to create fire within the bond rather than seek it without. For though Davis speaks of affairs, the heart of her truth is not about adultery, but about the need for constant life within love. Without it, even the strongest union may grow cold.

Practical actions flow from this wisdom. Nurture your relationships with intention, not passivity. Keep love alive with mystery and creativity—through shared journeys, laughter, and intimacy that deepens with time. Resist the prison of monotony, for love, like flame, must be fed or it will flicker out. And if temptation arises, ask not only what it offers, but what it risks. True strength in love lies not in chasing spice elsewhere, but in kindling it within the sacred union you have chosen.

Thus, Bette Davis’s provocative words endure as a challenge and a warning. They remind us of the peril of boredom, of the fiery call of desire, and of the need for renewal in marriage. Let us carry forward this teaching: passion is not a gift given once, but a fire to be tended daily. Betrayal may bring temporary flames, but only commitment infused with creativity will make love eternal.