Quotes About Aging

I'm not very good at being alive. Sometimes I despair of ever mastering it, getting it right. When I'm old, perhaps.

The bouncing cricket that was my brother is gone. Now when I look into his eyes, an old man stares back at me.

Vlady smiled to himself. He was fifty-six today. What had loomed in the distance like a giant iceberg had finally caught up with him, but he had survived the encounter. He was still alive. Despite everything, he had not thrown himself under a train. He was still there and that was enough reason to celebrate.

we are borne along by these four different kinds of sufferings: birth, aging, sickness, and death. Our life starts with birth, which is full of pain and suffering, and ends with death, which is also suffering. Between these two, whether our life is short or long, sickness and aging keep punishing us. We are drowning in the currents of these four rivers, tossed around by strong waves.

Now this, bhikkhus, is the noble truth of suffering: birth is suffering, aging is suffering, illness is suffering, death is suffering; union with what is displeasing is suffering; separation from what is pleasing is suffering; not to get what one wants is suffering; in brief, the five aggregates subject to clinging are suffering.

Did I imagine that this was our pattern for all time? That we could grow old together, accusing and forgiving? Back then, I dind't know what forever looked like. Maybe I don't even know now. But that night in Piney Woods, I believed that our marriage was a fine-spun tapestry, fragile but fixable. We tore it often and mended it, always with a silken thread, lovely but sure to give way.

I would love to continue in music, with writing... but I am not the kind of person who will hang around if I start to become irrelevant. If that happens, I will bow down gracefully, raise my kids, and have a garden. And I am going to let my hair go gray when I am older. I don't need to be blonde when I'm 60!

the first two years of a dog's life equal twenty-four years in human years, and then each subsequent year of the dog's life equals four years for the human.

Te sientes así; con ganas de dejar que tus neumáticos se desinflen, de dejar a los ratones construír un nido en tu silenciador, como si fuera no más que un camión en la maleza, cacareando con pollos o pegajoso con miel o sosteniendo a un frágil anciano en tu regazo mientras contempla el camino, esperando a alguien para saludarlo.

I'm very conscious of people having pretty short attention spans: I know, I'm guilty of it. I'm 17 now: what happens by the time I'm 21, am I a burn-out or something? Will they still listen to my record?

The older I get, the more I become an apple pie, sparkling cider kind of guy.

Fundamentally speaking, bodies age; feelings don't.

As we get older - perhaps I'm just speaking for myself - we can get too cynical.

I think, as I've gotten older, I've been able to be more reckless with my choices, because practically speaking, you get less careful. Your choices become more instinctive, and you feel like if you make a mistake, it won't destroy you.

I don't wear much make-up in my non-working life, though I love to dress up and put on a face for a special occasion. As I get older, I see less of the fantasy 'Indian' self I inherited from my father, and I see my mother looking back at me.

It is really, really wonderful that in your old age you are protected by specialists who understand your problems and sort them out for you. Well, isn't that what we all need?

I've always been anti-marriage for men until they become mature. As a species we don't mature until we're in our 60s.

You can never predict what the specific shape of your life is going to be, and you won't really know its general shape until, God willing, you're advanced in years and you have the time and opportunity to look back in a coherent way and see what your life was about.

As long as my body holds out, I'll be grooving when I'm 70, and not some sort of horrible spectacle.

On the other end of the spectrum, these women who do live long enough to collect Social Security face the challenge of being disproportionately dependent on the Social Security system for retirement income.

Some fighters had blinding speed and reflexes in their heyday but faded badly with age.

One of the saddest things about publishing is how quickly it ages what it touches. The frenzy involved in getting books on shelves, and in putting the word out that they're there, moves at a speed that is not the speed of writing, let alone of reading.

The name of the game is to keep from pushing the accelerator pedal so hard that we speed up the aging process. The average American, however, by living a fast and furious lifestyle, pushes that accelerator too hard and too much.

Short of spending $10,000, there is nothing you can do to your head to hide the fact that you're going bald.