When Mark Twain married Olivia Langdon, he told a friend, “If I had known how happy married life could be, I would have wed 30 years ago instead of wasting time growing teeth.” He was 32. Twain—born Samuel Clemens—grew up in a modest family, working from a young age. He started as a printer’s apprentice, became a riverboat pilot, tried his luck at silver mining (and failed spectacularly), before finally finding his true calling as a writer. His sharp wit and storytelling brilliance made him famous across America.

It was around this time that he fell in love—not with Olivia at first, but with her portrait. A friend showed Twain a locket with her image and later invited him to meet her in person. Within two weeks, Twain proposed. Olivia liked him, but she was hesitant. He was ten years older, rough around the edges, lacked the refinement of her wealthy, cultured circle, and had not a penny to his name. She admired his talent but turned him down. Twain, ever persistent, proposed again. Another refusal—this time, she cited his lack of religious devotion. He responded with his signature humor and sincerity: “If that’s what it takes, I’ll become a good Christian.” Despite her refusals, Olivia was already in love with him. But Twain, convinced he had no chance, left.

On his way to the train station, his carriage overturned. Seizing the moment, Twain played up his injuries and was brought back to Olivia’s home. As she cared for him, he made one final proposal. This time, she said yes.

Twain made every effort to please his deeply religious wife. He read the Bible to her every evening and said grace before meals. Knowing she disapproved of some of his stories, he never submitted them for publication, accumulating over 15,000 unpublished pages. Olivia became his first editor and toughest critic—so much so that when she came across the phrase “Damn it!” in Huckleberry Finn, she made him remove it. Their daughter, Susy, once summed them up perfectly: “Mama loves morality. Papa loves cats.”

Twain adored Olivia. He once wrote, “If she told me wearing socks was immoral, I would stop wearing them immediately.” She called him her “gray-haired boy” and watched over him like a child. He, in turn, credited her with preserving his energy, optimism, and youthful spirit. Olivia, for her part, loved his humor. One day, Twain was laughing so loudly that she asked what book had amused him so much. Still chuckling, he handed it to her. She glanced at the cover—it was one of his own books.

Their life together was not without heartbreak. They lost children. Twain went bankrupt. But while his indomitable optimism kept him afloat, Olivia’s unshakable faith gave her strength. They never turned against each other—Twain never once raised his voice at Olivia, and she never once scolded him. Twain was fiercely protective of her. When a close friend made a joke at Olivia’s expense, Twain nearly ended their friendship over it. And when Twain set off on a round-the-world tour at sixty, Olivia—knowing he needed constant care—left everything behind to accompany him.

Photo from the "Adventures of Mark Twain" drama