Quotes About Aging

Old card players never die, they just shuffle away.

They're not gray hairs — they're wisdom highlights.

Gray hair is a blessing — ask any bald man.

A man has gray hair; a poet has locks as silvery as long-lost treasure.

He whirled with fierce passion on me: 'Don't you ever let yourself grow old, lad. Die when you're young, or you'll come to this. I'm tellin' you sure. Seven an' eighty years am I, an' served my country like a man. Three good conduct stripes and the Victoria Cross, an' this is what I get for it. I wish I was dead, I wish I was dead. Can't come any too quick for me, I tell you.

Experience, my dear lady, has taught me a sad truth: time flows in one direction only! As the days pass none of us grows younger. Sometimes we postpone glorious schemes only to discover in the end that they never have materialized! Procrastination is the thief of life!

I had begun to think my ripening body would wither untasted on the vine.

Os homens irão deixar-te, a tua beleza irá desaparecer, os teus filhos irão crescer e partir e tudo o que pensaste ser a tua vida irá azedar; a única coisa com que podes contar é contigo mesma e com o teu talento.

Some evenings I don't know where the old pains end and the new ones begin. Feels like the older you get the more they run into one long, deep aching.

What interests me about the eyes is that they are part of the body that doesn't age. In other words, if one looks for ones childhood across all the signs of aging in the body, the deterioration of musculature, the whitening of the hair, changes in height and weight, one can find one's childhood in the look of the eyes.

He wondered how men could live till they were seventy if they endured such passions as he had known that fifteenth summer, and although he knew many things...he did not even guess that men are able to live because slowly, one by one, they snuff out the fires of spring until only embers burn in white dignity, in loneliness, and often in cold despair.

I am sure old men forget what it was to be young and to be wholly in love. Not even I can remember those breathless moments. That's why they give old men important jobs and big salaries and orchestras to lead. To pay us back for the terrible loss we have sustained.

government is very lax. None of their people want the hassle, so the old folks keep driving until you read about it in the paper:

I've invested years of my life in building a haven here, and here I will remain among my friends as each day we grow older and each month some of us falter, and each year some of us die. That was the great adventure I entered into years ago and with which I am now content.

Time is the strangest substance known to man. You can't see, touch, hear, smell, taste or avoid it. Time makes you stronger-minded but weaker-bodied, gradually transforming you from blushing grape to ornery, grouching raisin. Time is the most precious thing you have, yet you're happiest when you're wasting it. Time will outlive you, your offspring, your offspring's robots and your offspring's robots' springs.

REFERENCE RANGES FOR FREE TESTOSTERONE Category Free Testosterone Normal Range (pg/mL) Men (20 to 29 years old) 9.3 to 26.5 Men (30 to 39 years old) 8.7 to 25.1 Men (40 to 49 years old) 7.2 to 24 Men (50 to 59 years old) 6.8 to 21.5 Men (older than 59 years old) 6.6 to 18.1

We're getting old, he thought, and it damn sure didn't take long.

and what in the world was I by now but an aging, lonely, sexually dubious, politically outrageous, unspeakably erratic freak?

The woman on the bed was old, her life was fading as the mist rose. She thought of her mother as already in the grave; and she would not let herself be strangled by the hands of the dead. "I'm going, Ma," she said. "I got to go.

How could such a pretty girl become known as the Hag, she wondered. It must be hateful to become old in face and body when you're young at heart and still strong and tough—so unfair for a woman.

For a woman, old age is never pretty.

Nobody lives forever, nobody stays young long enough. My past seemed like so much excess baggage, my future a series of long goodbyes, my present an empty flask, the last good drink already bitter on my tongue.

La juventud lo aguanta todo: reyes bíblicos, poesía, amor... solo la vence el tiempo.

I'm seventy and in baaaaad fucking shape. I've consumed scads of scotch and sucked three packs a day since I shot out the chute.