Quotes About Old

My dears, laugh at me if you like; it is not conventionally beautiful, but there is something in its quaint old face which pleases me. If it could play the piano, I am sure it would really play.

that rake through the entrails of many an old good author, with a violation worse than any could be offered to his tomb.

I was skateboarding on the levee and lost my edges," she said. "You were skateboarding?" She turned and looked at him and shook her head in exasperation: "No, you dummy, I fell. On the ice. On the sidewalk. Like old people do." Virgil: "Oh." She shook her head again. "Jesus wept.

The breeze smelled like the breath of an old man with bad teeth.

She was old and crankily conservative in the way only old liberals could be.

There was a huge moon over the western mountains, and it made the city seem even more mysterious and old, and the great black castle on the ridge stood out in front of the moon. And if there are ghosts anyplace in the world, they must be here, and if there is a ghost of Queen Tamara, she must have been walking the ridge in the moonlight that night.

Literature is not a game for the cloistered elect. Literature is as old as speech. It grew out of human need for it and it has not changed except to become more needed.

Can it be that we do not love to be reminded that we are very young and callow in a world that was old when we came into it? And could there be a strong resistance to the certainty that a living world will continue its stately way when we no longer inhabit it?

Literature was not promulgated by a pale and emasculated critical priesthood singing their litanies in empty churches - nor is it a game for the cloistered elect, the tinhorn mendicants of low calorie despair. Literature is as old as speech. It grew out of human need for it, and it has not changed except to become more needed.

Sunshine, the old clown, rims the room.

I'm English. Our dentistry is not world famous. But I made sure I got moldings of my old teeth beforehand because I miss them.

The censors don't bother with fantasy books, especially old ones. They can't understand them. They think it's all kids' stuff. They'd die if they knew what The Chronicles of Narnia were really about.

Frog has no nerves. Frog is as old as a cockroach. Frog is my father's genitals. Frog is a malformed doorknob. Frog is a soft bag of green.

I never really got nightmares from movies. In fact, I recall my father saying when I was three years old that I would be scared, but I never was.

Old father, old artificer, stand me now and ever in good stead.

My father had this mythological sense of the old New York, and he used to tell me stories about these old gangs, particularly the Forty Thieves in the Fourth Ward.

Fear and I were old buddies, despite my best efforts to the contrary.

It's just some instinct as old as fear: you seek the dark when you hide, you seek the light when the need to hide is gone. All the animals have it too.

Minds are like swords, I do fear. The old ones go to rust.

Love can never be taught for it is to be learned. Love can never be bought for it is to be given. Love can never be kept for it is to be free. Love can never be old for it lives to last a lifetime.

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Fear not of evil Everyday dem flesh it grow old Changes of the time take the toll.

Respect the old, when you are young. Help the weak, when you are strong. Confess the fault when you are wrong....Because one day in life, you will be old, Weak, and Wrong...

Our love of life is no more than an old affair that we do not know how to discontinue. Its strength lies in its permanence. But death, which interrupts it, will cure us of our desire for immortality.