I'm not interested in age. People who tell me their age are silly. You're as old as you feel.


I'm saving that rocker for the day when I feel as old as I really am.


If my body were a tree trunk, the inner rings would surely begin to reveal the time it has had to mature.


If the young knew and the old could, there is nothing that couldn't be done.


If wrinkles must be written upon our brows, let them not be written upon the heart. The spirit should never grow old.


If you associate enough with older people who do enjoy their lives, who are not stored away in any golden ghettos, you will gain a sense of continuity and of the possibility for a full life.


If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older.


If you wouldn't live long, live well; for folly and wickedness shorten life.


If you're starting to look wrinkled, don't worry. It covers the scars.


If youth knew; if age could.


In a few days I'll have lived one score and three days in this vale of tears. On I plod –always bored, often drunk, doing no penance for my faults –rather do I become more tolerant of myself from day to day, hardening my crystal heart with blasphemous humor and shunning only toothpicks, pathos, and poverty as being the three unforgivable things in life.


In mid-life the man wants to see how irresistible he still is to younger women. How they turn their hearts to stone and more or less commit a murder of their marriage I just don't know, but they do.


In middle life, the human back is spoiling for a technical knockout and will use the flimsiest excuse, even a sneeze, to fall apart.


In my twenties, my pleasures tended to be physical. In my thirties, my pleasures tended to be intellectual. I can't say which was more exquisite.


In the multitude of middle-aged men who go about their vocations in a daily course determined for them much in the same way as the tie of their cravats, there is always a good number who once meant to shape their own deeds and alter the world a little.


In the name of Hypocrites, doctors have invented the most exquisite form of torture ever known to man: survival.


In youth the days are short and the years are long. In old age the years are short and day's long.


In youth we run into difficulties. In old age difficulties run into us.


It is a bore, I admit, to be past seventy, for you are left for execution, and are daily expecting the death-warrant; but it is not anything very capital we quit. We are, at the close of life, only hurried away from stomach-aches, pains in the joints, from sleepless nights and unamusing days, from weakness, ugliness, and nervous tremors; but we shall all meet again in another planet, cured of all our defects.


It is a rare and difficult attainment to grow old gracefully and happily.

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