Quotes About Aging

Puoi credere che quegli anni fossero soltanto difficili, oppure che siano stati gli anni peggiori della storia del mondo. In cui il mondo invecchiò di colpo. E prese della vecchiaia l'egoismo e la disperazione, non la saggezza e la generosità.

The functions filled spacetime and they pierced his soul. Exhilarated, he rode their gaudy brilliance through the hearts of aging stars.

Old pictures look very rugged and young, and the people in the photographs always seem a lot happier than you are.

And I hope everyone's picture turn out great and never become old photographs and nobody gets in a car accident.

A new study shows that having a severe phobia can hasten aging. But what if my greatest fear IS aging?!?

Old professors never die, they just lose their faculties.

I think I am angrier about that now than I ever was at the time. Pomposity and indignation grow in old age, like nostril hairs and earlobes.

Pomposity and indignation grow in old age, like nostril hairs and earlobes.

But, as the saying had it, old professors never die, they merely lose their faculties.

Kebenaran abadi, juga kenyamanan yang ditemukan dalam gagasan bahwa walau manusia menua dan mati, alam semesta kekal dan tak berubah.

Time takes it all, whether you want it to or not.

Time's the thief of memory

When you're twenty-one, life is a roadmap. It's only when you get to be twenty-five or so that you begin to suspect that you've been looking at the map upside down, and not until you're forty are you entirely sure. By the time you're sixty, take it from me, you're fucking lost.

The good thing about being old, is you don't have to worry about dying young.

Another part of getting older: you forgot what you wanted to remember, and remembered what you wanted to forget.

The three true ages of man are youth, middle age, and how the fuck did I get old so soon?

The kid in you just leaked out, like the air out of a tire. And one day you looked in the mirror and there was a grownup looking back at you.

On the way home I remembered a bit of old folklore about how to boil a frog. You put it in cold water, then start turning up the heat. If you do it gradually, the frog is too stupid to jump out. I don't know if it's true or not, but I decided it was an excellent metaphor for growing old.

It had that comfortably sprung, lived-in look that library books with a lively circulation always get; bent page corners, a dab of mustard on page 331, a whiff of some reader's spilled after-dinner whiskey on page 468. Only library books speak with such wordless eloquence of the power good stories hold over us, how good stories abide, unchanged and mutely wise, while we poor humans grow older and slower.

Sixty-four has a way of forgetting what twenty-one was like.

When you get old, peace is about all you want.

In the fifties... when they had their summer parties - there were always different colored lanterns on the lawn... and I get the funniest chill. In the end the bright colors always go out of life, have you noticed that? In the end, things always look gray, like a dress that's been washed too many times.

Time is a thief of memory

Here I am, ninety years old and ready for the cooling board, using a brand new Macintosh computer, and there you sit, twenty-two and gorgeous, fresh as a new peach, yet scrawling on a yellow legal pad like an old maid in a Victorian romance.