The only way marriage can work is if a man respects the woman and

In the raw and unapologetic wisdom of Al Goldstein, there lies a truth both ancient and enduring: “The only way marriage can work is if a man respects the woman and she is a thinking woman and he wants to work on the marriage.” Though Goldstein was known for his brash humor and rebellion against convention, in these words he touches a sacred chord of human experience. For beneath the simplicity of his statement beats a timeless truth—that respect, intellect, and effort are the holy trinity upon which all enduring unions are built. These are not merely virtues of marriage, but the very elements that bind civilization itself.

Goldstein speaks first of respect, the foundation stone without which no relationship can stand. To respect a woman is to see her not as an ornament or possession, but as a soul equal in dignity, capable of thought, vision, and choice. In the old worlds, where men once ruled by decree and women were denied both voice and learning, marriages were often chains—bonds without harmony, command without love. Yet even in those dark ages, the wisest among men knew that domination breeds decay, while respect breathes life. As the ancients taught, love without reverence is fleeting, but respect kindles the fire that endures through time.

He then speaks of the thinking woman, a phrase rich with power. For what is love, if not the meeting of two minds as much as two hearts? A marriage without thought is a house built on sand; it cannot weather the tempests of time. The thinking woman is not merely intelligent—she is aware, discerning, awake to herself and the world. She questions, challenges, dreams. To love such a woman requires courage, for she will not bend easily, nor be content with hollow flattery. But in her presence, a man is invited to rise—to think more deeply, to love more honestly, to grow. In honoring her mind, he honors his own humanity.

History, too, bears witness to this truth. Consider Abigail and John Adams, whose letters to one another during the birth of the American republic still breathe with affection and intellect. John, a founding father, and Abigail, his equal in wisdom, spoke as partners—not only in love but in thought. She once wrote, “Remember the ladies,” calling him to see justice beyond his time. And though the world around them had not yet learned equality, their union was built upon it. Their love did not silence; it sparked dialogue. It was not domination, but mutual respect, that made their bond immortal.

Yet Goldstein adds a final truth: that the man must want to work on the marriage. This is the crucible of endurance. Love, no matter how passionate or noble, will perish if left untended. To work on marriage is to face oneself daily—to mend, to forgive, to learn anew. The ancients compared love to the tending of a fire: it cannot burn on passion alone; it demands the steady feeding of understanding, patience, and sacrifice. Without such labor, even the most glorious flame fades into ash.

Thus, in Goldstein’s simple declaration lies a profound formula: respect, intellect, and effort. These are not relics of philosophy, but living commandments. Respect ensures equality; intellect ensures depth; effort ensures endurance. When one of these falters, love begins to crumble. But when all three move in harmony, marriage becomes not merely survival, but art—a shared evolution of two souls bound in purpose.

Let this be a teaching to those who would seek love that lasts: Choose not the one who dazzles only the eye, but the one who challenges the mind and stirs the soul. Treat your beloved not as your reflection, but as your teacher. And above all, work on the bond daily, for even the strongest temple must be maintained, lest time erode its pillars. Speak truth. Listen deeply. Cherish the moments of growth, even when they come through pain.

For in the end, as Al Goldstein reminds us, a true marriage is not a fantasy of perfection, but a union of two imperfect beings who, through respect and shared thought, create something greater than themselves. To walk this path is to live not merely in comfort, but in the sacred labor of love—a work that never ends, yet forever rewards those who choose it.