Quotes About Aging

I'm more temperamental. As I've got older, I've become more demanding.

Seven Ages: first puking and mewling Then very pissed-off with your schooling Then fucks, and then fights Next judging chaps' rights Then sitting in slippers: then drooling.

As a man gets older, his regrets changes. Especially when he's gotten into the Scotch.

Oh stay awhile. sad, sagging flesh and bones gone brittle. Stay in place, aged face, teeth, don't go. Inside and out the flaccid change of bodily parts, mechanics of action, mind's collapsing habits, all echo here in mottled skin, blurred eye, reiterated mumble. Lift to the vacant air some sigh, some sign I'm still inside.

All dogs are born with a death sentence, they hunt for us, and then they are gone. They do not get to stay either young or strong forever. It's an old truth but still we have to relearn it with each dog. Rick Bass, in the story Old Dog

I am of an age when one begins to contemplate one's emaciated fingers, and at which youth is so full, so real that it cannot be long before it begins to fade. Your lips bring tears to my eyes; you sleep naked in my brain and I dare not rest.

There come a day in every man's life when he stops looking forward and starts looking back.

I had watched Grandma O'Malley, a proud and simple woman, shrink and wrinkle and turn white over the years. But we expect that of our grandparents. Not our parents. For some reason, we think our parents will never grow old, perhaps because when they do, we are forced to acknowledge that we will one day grow old, and we face our own mortality.

You know that saying, the one I've told the kids about growing old being a privilege, not a right?

Tracy's mother had liked to say that when a person hit seventy, they aged in dog's years; the transformation was that much more pronounced.

There comes a day in every man's life when he stops looking forward and starts looking back. —Maxwell Hill

For some reason, we think our parents will never grow old, perhaps because when they do, we are forced to acknowledge that we will one day grow old, and we face our own mortality.

Time is wicked. It comes and goes like a thief in the night, stealing our youth, our beauty, and our bodies." I had watched Grandma O'Malley, a proud and simple woman, shrink and wrinkle and turn white over the years. But we expect that of our grandparents. Not our parents. For some reason, we think our parents will never grow old, perhaps because when they do, we are forced to acknowledge that we will one day grow old, and we face our own mortality.

Growing old is a privilege, not a right.

Older women are like aging strudels - the crust may not be so lovely, but the filling has come at last into its own.

Women are like cheese strudels. When first baked, they are crisp and fresh on the outside, but the filling is unsettled and indigestible; in age, the crust may not be so lovely, but the filling comes at last into its own.

Getting older... mostly it entails accepting the unacceptable.

I never dared to be radical when youngFor fear it would make me conservative when old.

The old dog barks backward without getting up.I can remember when he was a pup.

Just for a moment, as he pulled himself back inside the Land Rover, Strike wondered where he'd be if he lived to eighty, and who'd be there with him.

She had agreed to marry him without realizing that marriage brought a kind a simple pleasure, a pleasure in the continued company of another human being, the act of caring, of carrying with you the thought of someone else. She would, she supposed, never see him age beyond the present day, and found that the thought made her immeasurably sad. Somewhere,

Women do that as they age, they lighten, become air, their souls ephemeral with memory and experience. Men become more ponderous with the passing of the years, heavy with regret.

Why is it that, as we lose our loveliness, the sheen of youth, we lose possibility as well? We acquire, but more is vanished than is given, and nothing makes up for the loss of the swallows at the Sherry, or the Victoria diamond, or the nights at Area when your booted feet ground the glass phials of amyl nitrate into the dance floor.

The pain of growing old lies specifically in the fact that part of us does not grow old.