Quotes About Aging

He was reaching that age, he was at the edge of it, when the world becomes suddenly more beautiful, when it reveals itself in a special way, in every detail, roof and wall, in the leaves of trees fluttering faintly before the rain. The world was opening itself, as if to allow, now that life was shortening, one long, passionate look, and all that had been withheld would finally be given.

The summer has ended. The garden withers. The mornings become chill. I am thirty, I am thirty-four–the years turn dry as leaves.

He no longer lives in years; he is down to seasons. Finally it will become single nights, each one perilous as a lunar journey. He

He lived in it helplessly as we live in our bodies when we are older.

Certain things I remember exactly as they were. They are merely discolored a bit by time, like coins in the pocket of a forgotten suit.

Death was coming for Harry Mies. He would lie emptied, his cheeks rouged, the fine, old man's ears unhearing. There was no telling the things he knew. He was alone in the far fields of his life. The rain fell on him, he did not move. p. 132

Dingen die je geschreven hebt, rijpen niet met je mee, zo lijkt me althans. De waarheid ervan kan bepaald zijn door de tijd, maar er bestaat niet zoiets als bij de tijd zijn wanneer de tijd voorbij is. Boeken blijven bestaan buiten de tijd om of ze houden op te bestaan. Dat is zoals het gaat in de literatuur. Boeken markeren een periode of een plaats, en geleidelijk worden ze die tijd en plaats'.

The courage to live when the best days were past.

suddenly felt frightened. He was reaching that age, he was at the edge of it, when the world becomes suddenly more beautiful, when it reveals itself in a special way, in every detail, roof and wall, in the leaves of trees fluttering faintly before a rain. The world was opening itself, as if to allow, now that life was shortening, one long, passionate look, and all that had been withheld would finally be given.

The weight of this sad time we must obey, Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest have borne most. We that are young Shall never see so much, nor live so long. (24.318–21)

With sixty staring me in the face, I have developed inflammation of the sentence structure and definite hardening of the paragraphs.

Her own mother lived the latter years of her life in the horrible suspicion that electricity was dripping invisibly all over the house.

At forty my faculties may have closed up like flowers at evening, leaving me unable to write my memoirs with a fitting and discreet inaccuracy, or, having written them, unable to carry them to the publisher.

I trust that this collection of pieces will prove that I ave not become, at sixty six going on fifty, as one friend of mine gallantly put it, completely lugubrious.

The older you get, the more theories you make up about things.

It sometimes happens that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she was ten years before; and, generally speaking, if there has been neither ill health nor anxiety, it is a time of life at which scarcely any charm is lost.

I should think he must be rather a dressy man for his time of life. Such a number of looking-glasses! Oh Lord! There is not getting away from one's self

When a woman has five grown-up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty.

Twelve years had changed Anne from the blooming, silent, unformed girl of fifteen, to the elegant little woman of seven-and-twenty, with every beauty except bloom, and with manners as consciously right as they were invariably gentle;

Shvatila je što je ljubav kad je postala starija - prirodni slijed neprirodnog po?etka.

It sometimes happens that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she was ten years before;

If Louisa Musgrove would be beautiful and happy in her November of life, she will cherish all her present powers of mind.

had my share of beauty, but I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has five grown-up daughters

Life does not cease when you are old, it only suffers a rich change. You go on loving, only your love, instead of a burning, fiery furnace, is the mellow glow of an autumn sun.