Take care of him. And make him feel important. And if you can do

“Take care of him. And make him feel important. And if you can do that, you'll have a happy and wonderful marriage. Like two out of every ten couples.” So spoke Neil Simon, master of comedy and chronicler of human folly. His words, though light in tone, cut to the core of the eternal struggle of marriage: the tension between hope and reality, between the ideal of happiness and the sobering truth that few attain it. In these lines, Simon wields irony like a blade, showing that while the secret to harmony may be simple—care, respect, affirmation—the practice of it is rare, honored by only a small fraction of those who wed.

The meaning here is layered. On the surface, Simon seems to jest that the path to a “happy and wonderful marriage” lies merely in making one’s partner feel important. Yet beneath the humor lies a truth older than civilization: every soul longs for recognition, for dignity, for the assurance that they matter. The neglect of this longing has broken more unions than infidelity or poverty, for when a spouse feels invisible, they drift into loneliness even within the bond of marriage. Thus, Simon reminds us that greatness in marriage is not forged in wealth or beauty, but in the daily act of making the other feel seen and cherished.

The ancients knew this wisdom as well. In Roman households, philosophers such as Seneca advised husbands to honor their wives not as property but as partners, to elevate them with respect and recognition. For even in those patriarchal times, there was awareness that affection without esteem falters. To “make him feel important,” in Simon’s jest, echoes that ancient call to uphold the dignity of one’s companion. Without this mutual care, love erodes into duty, and duty without joy becomes a prison.

History offers us vivid examples. Consider the marriage of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. Though rulers of an empire, their bond was strengthened by Albert’s constant support of Victoria’s reign and Victoria’s profound respect for his counsel. She did not treat him as a mere consort, but as a partner whose importance she honored in private and in public. Their union flourished because each cared for the other’s spirit as much as their own. This contrasts with countless royal marriages arranged for power but devoid of recognition, which withered into resentment and betrayal. Victoria and Albert prove that mutual care and affirmation are indeed the foundation of rare, enduring happiness.

And yet Simon, with his cynicism, reminds us that such unions are not the norm. “Two out of every ten couples,” he says, as though happiness were a rare jewel hidden in the mud of countless quarrels, compromises, and disappointments. Here is his genius: he acknowledges the difficulty, the fragility of marriage. It is not enough to know the secret—many know it—but few are willing to practice it daily. For care requires humility, patience, and sacrifice, and many fall short of offering it consistently.

The lesson for us is stern but hopeful: do not expect happiness in marriage to be bestowed like a gift; it must be cultivated like a field, with constant labor and devotion. To take care of your partner, to make them feel important, is not a one-time act but a lifelong practice. If few attain this, it is because few persist in it. But to those who do, the reward is profound: a marriage that endures storms, a bond that strengthens with age, a joy that becomes unshakable.

Practical wisdom follows: each day, ask yourself, “Have I made my partner feel valued today?” Speak words of gratitude, however small. Honor their efforts, however ordinary. Defend their dignity before others. In these simple acts, you build the foundation of rare happiness. Do not be content to be among the eight couples who let indifference corrode love—strive to be among the two who labor, and therefore flourish.

Thus Neil Simon, through jest, teaches us the hard truth. Marriage, he implies, is fragile, and happiness is rare—but it is not unattainable. With care, with recognition, with the courage to honor one another daily, a husband and wife may join that small, noble company of couples who prove that love, though difficult, can indeed endure. Let us, then, heed the humor and the wisdom together, and live so that we may belong not to the many who fail, but to the few who triumph.