"One thing, however, marriage has done for me. I can never again believe that religion is manufactured out of our unconscious, starved desires and is a substitute for sex. For those few years H. and I feasted love; every mode of it - solemn and merry, romantic and realistic, sometimes as dramatic as a thunderstorm, sometimes as comfortable and unemphatic as putting on your soft slippers. No cranny of heart or body remained unsatified. If God were a substitute for love we ought to have lost all interest of Him. Who`d bother about substitutes when he has the thing itself? But that isn´t what happens. We both knew we wanted something besides one another - quite a different kind of want. You might as well say that when lovers have another they never want to read, or eat - or breathe."
(A Grief observed, 1961, S. 10)