Either marriage is a destiny, I believe, or there is no sense in

In the words of Max Frisch, “Either marriage is a destiny, I believe, or there is no sense in it at all, it’s a piece of humbug.” This statement strikes like a hammer upon the anvil of human institutions. Frisch, the Swiss writer who probed the contradictions of modern life, places marriage within the realm of the eternal and the sacred, or else casts it aside as a hollow shell. To him, this union cannot be merely convenience, nor custom, nor ritual—it must be rooted in something deeper, something inevitable, something akin to destiny. Without this, it is deception, a mask society wears to cover its emptiness.

The ancients, too, spoke of marriage in this manner. Among the Greeks, there was the belief in moira, the fate spun by the Fates themselves, binding mortals in threads of inevitability. To meet one’s partner was not mere chance but the unfolding of a cosmic design. The Romans likewise revered marriage as a sacred contract overseen by Juno, goddess of home and fertility. For them, as for Frisch, marriage was either sanctified by forces beyond human caprice, or else it was fraud—a mere pact for property, lineage, or appearances.

To call marriage “a piece of humbug” is to accuse it of hypocrisy when stripped of destiny. How many unions in history were arranged for wealth, politics, or reputation, with little regard for love or purpose? These marriages endured outwardly, yet inwardly they were barren. Consider the alliances of European royalty: kings and queens wed across borders to secure peace or territory, yet often lived estranged, each finding fulfillment elsewhere. Such unions may have preserved kingdoms, but they robbed marriage of its soul. Frisch’s challenge is this: if marriage is not destiny—if it is not the meeting of two lives ordained to walk as one—then it is but a performance, an echo without voice.

Yet there are also examples of marriage as destiny, luminous and undeniable. Recall the story of Pierre and Marie Curie, whose shared devotion to science and to each other produced discoveries that reshaped the world. Their union was not convenient, but fated; together they were greater than apart, and their love endured even through hardship and tragedy. Here marriage transcended the ordinary and became destiny—proof that when two souls are aligned with a shared purpose, the bond is sacred and unbreakable.

The deeper meaning of Frisch’s words is that marriage, to have sense, must be more than contract. It must be a calling, a recognition that one’s life is bound up with another in ways that transcend reason. Destiny need not mean predestination; it may mean the recognition that a love is so profound, so fitting, so charged with meaning, that it feels as though the universe itself willed it. Without this sense, marriage becomes hollow, sustained by obligation but drained of spirit.

The lesson is clear: do not enter marriage lightly, nor out of fear, nor to satisfy custom. To do so is to embrace humbug, to live in an illusion that will one day collapse under its own emptiness. Instead, seek in marriage the note of destiny—the recognition of shared values, of deep love, of a purpose that transcends the self. Let marriage not be a mask, but a manifestation of truth.

Practical actions flow from this wisdom. Examine your heart honestly before committing: is this bond rooted in love, respect, and shared vision, or in fear and convenience? Honor marriage as sacred if you choose it, devoting yourself to its purpose with sincerity. Do not be deceived by appearances, for marriage without destiny is fragile, but marriage rooted in it is unshakable. Above all, remember that true unions are not found by chasing status or comfort, but by seeking truth and love that feel inevitable, as though woven by the Fates themselves.

Thus, Max Frisch’s words endure as both warning and invitation. They warn us against reducing marriage to an empty shell of social custom. They invite us to embrace it as destiny, the great adventure of two souls bound together in meaning. Let us pass this wisdom forward: that to marry without destiny is to live a lie, but to marry with destiny is to touch eternity itself.