Quotes About Middle-aged

I am a lazy, cynical, middle-aged guy who has long since come to the conclusion that most historical periods really sucked, for most people, most of the time.

As you can guess, this is a test of the readers' vulnerability to stereotypes: do people rate the essay more favorably when it is attributed to a middle-aged man than they do when they believe that a young woman wrote it? They do, of course. But importantly, the difference is larger in the good-mood condition. People who are in a good mood are more likely to let their biases affect their thinking.

If you surveyed a hundred typical middle-aged Americans, I bet you'd find that only two of them could tell you their blood types, but every last one of them would know the theme song from The Beverly Hillbillies.

And like most middle-aged people who hear the clock ticking in their lives, I had come to resent a waste or theft of my time that was greater than any theft of my goods or money.

When it is a question of an irate middle-aged lady, there is only one thing to be done - listen to her.

The vicar, a gentle, middle-aged man, was always the last to hear anything.

a competent-looking middle-aged man. He spoke briskly and with decision.

I did it for you. I took in a pint of bourbon with me. She's a charming middle-aged lady with a face like a bucket of mud and if she has washed her hair since Coolidge's second term, I'll eat my spare tire, rim and all.

It was like dealing with Rasputin, not a middle-aged woman from Wolverhampton.

Men who are orthodox when they are young are in danger of being middle-aged all their lives.

I've played so many historical characters because most horrible dictators are short, fat, middle-aged men.

I keep on reading the Morning Star newspaper to see if there's any hope, but it seems to be in the 19th century; it seems to be written for dropped-out, middle-aged liberals.

Logic , like lyrical poetry , is no employment for the middle-aged

Congress is a middle-aged, middle-class, white male power structure ... no wonder it's been so totally unresponsive to the needs of this country.

As rock became less a movement and more a business, its impact, though not its popularity, declined. It seemed unlikely that rock would soon become a television staple. But some day its fans would be middle-aged, so even that possibility could not be permanently excluded.

I'm officially middle-aged. I don't need drugs anymore, thank God. I can get the same effect just by standing up real fast.

[On golf:] ... though aware I could never be more than a humble potterer, it was impossible to repress the wild upsurgings of hope known to all middle-aged beginners.

A middle-aged man who's probably down to jerking off every other day. A weary man of forty who's already seen everything come around twice, who let me fuck him that once in a hole where whole armies of men have doubtless passed.

The middle-aged woman is the ground bed of the audience that watches television, and yet they are absolutely invisible.

It's kind of true, you do disappear off the planet if you are a middle-aged woman, but that has some advantages as well.

When I feel risk-averse, I am much more likely to surround myself with middle-aged, professional, southern females; I just am.

more earth-bound fiction and especially to shake off the 'Catholic novelist' tag, which first took hold with Brighton Rock; Greene would often say that he was 'not a Catholic writer but a writer who happens to be a Catholic'.3 A memorable phrase, it is more accurate as a description of the second half of his career than of the first. Indeed, it seems that the middle-aged Graham Greene was trying to cover his intellectual and artistic tracks.

Ask any Ferrari, Porsche or Ray-Ban salesperson about their average customer and you will very likely hear that he is not, as the adverts would have us believe, a virile young footballer with shiny hair, a rippling six pack and a trouser pouch like a new punch bag. He is, in fact, a middle-aged bloke wearing more chins than he started life with and carrying the clear evidence of forty years of beer and pies slung across his midriff.

He looked like those paintings of baby angels - what do you call them, hubbubs? No cherubs. That's it. He looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park.