When Mark Twain married Olivia Langdon, he told a friend: "If I’d known how happy married life would make me, I’d have m...

When Mark Twain married Olivia Langdon, he told a friend:
"If I’d known how happy married life would make me, I’d have married 30 years earlier—skipping the whole business of growing teeth."
He was 32 at the time.
They couldn’t have been more different. Samuel Clemens (Twain’s real name) grew up in a poor family, worked from a young age, and tried his hand at everything — from piloting steamboats to mining silver — before becoming a writer. Olivia was the refined daughter of a wealthy businessman.
Twain fell in love with her… before they even met. A friend showed him a locket with Olivia’s portrait and invited him to visit. Within two weeks of meeting her in person, he proposed. She declined. Twice. The first time, she cited the age gap and his rough manners. The second time, his lack of religious devotion. Twain promised to become a good Christian for her, but still, she hesitated — even though in her heart, she already loved him.
Fate intervened when his carriage overturned on the way out of town. Pretending to be seriously injured, Twain ended up back in her home. Olivia offered to nurse him — and after yet another proposal, she finally said “yes.”
From that day on, Twain did everything to keep her happy. He read her the Bible every evening, prayed before meals, and even kept 15,000 pages of his writing unpublished because he knew she wouldn’t approve. She was his first editor, censoring anything too bold — once even removing Huck Finn’s “Confound it!” because it was too coarse.
Twain once said: “I’d stop wearing socks if she told me it was immoral.” She called him her “gray-haired boy” and looked after him as if he were one. In return, he credited her with keeping his energy, humor, and childlike spirit alive.
Even in hard times — losing children, bankruptcy, Olivia’s illness — they leaned on each other. Twain’s humor was her medicine; he filled their home and garden with silly notes to make her smile, even instructing birds when and how loudly to sing outside her window.
They never raised their voices to each other, never had a scandal, and never stopped being each other’s safe place. For one of her birthdays, Twain wrote:
"Every day we’ve lived together has deepened my certainty that we will never regret uniting our lives. With every year, my love for you, my dear, grows stronger. Let’s look forward — to future anniversaries, to old age — without fear or sadness."
A love story for the ages.