No woman marries for money; they are all clever enough, before marrying a millionaire, to fall in love with him first.

We're clever at rewriting our own stories

There's a sharp observation hiding in this quip about how we rationalize our choices. We like to believe our decisions are pure—that love and money exist in separate compartments. But Pavese is suggesting something more interesting: people are remarkably good at making these compartments collapse when it's convenient. The woman doesn't marry for money and then fall in love; she falls in love first, which somehow makes the money feel incidental, almost accidental.

This matters because we all do versions of this. We don't choose a comfortable job for the paycheck; we convince ourselves we're passionate about it. We don't stay in a relationship because we're afraid of starting over; we decide we still love them. We're not being dishonest exactly—we're just incredibly skilled at believing the story that lets us feel good about our choices. The real cleverness Pavese identifies isn't manipulation; it's our human capacity to reshape how we see reality so our decisions feel like they came from the heart.

The uncomfortable part? Once you notice this pattern, you start wondering which of your own choices you've reframed without realizing it.