Star Trek: Deep Space Nine1993

Lt. Commander Worf:
Anyone can see that we are hopelessly mismatched. She is a Trill, I'm a Klingon. She has had five marriages; this would be my first. When she is laughing, I am somber. When I am happy, she is crying. She plays tongo with the Ferengi bartender; I can barely stand him. She mocks everything, while I take everything seriously. She is nothing like the woman I thought I would marry.

Martok:
We are not accorded the luxury of choosing the women we fall in love with. Do you think Sirella is anything like the woman I thought that I'd marry? She is a prideful, arrogant, mercurial woman, who shares my bed far too infrequently for my taste. And yet... I love her, deeply. We Klingons often tout our prowess in battle, our desire for glory and honor above all else. But how hollow is the sound of victory without someone to share it with. Honor gives little comfort to a man alone in his home... and in his heart.