Quotes About Aging

I hate old people. I hate anyone older than my mother, who didn't get to become old.

It's strange, to not be the youngest kind of adult anymore. I'm thirty-one now, and my mother is dead.

Confucius said, "When young, beware of fighting; when strong, beware of sex; and when old, beware of possession," which simply means that a boy loves fighting, a young man loves women, and an old man loves money.

He remained blind, however when it came to his wife's fitness. This was not because of poor eyesight, but despite it. He saw his dearest, loveliest Elizabeth as he beheld her decades before--- fetching and vigorous.

Sagacity did not magically arrive with age. As his family grew, so did his affections. The deeper he loved, the more easily he was injured. His heart had not become reinforced. It had softened--and ripened. It was a larger target and far more easily rent.

It is accepted that Father Time is, as subscribed, a Man, if not of male gender, time certainly is no kind friend to women.

She rubbed her face with a cream cleanser...and she followed it with a moisturizer that promoted itself as "revitalizing". She hadn't yet turned to "anti-aging," but she figured "revitalizing" was for over thirty and under forty, "anti-aging" was for over forty and under seventy, and then when you were seventy, you just told everybody to fuck off.

My aging body transmits an ageless life stream. Molecular and atomic replacement change life's composition. Molecules take part in structure and in training, countless trillions of them. After my death, the molecules of my being will return to the earth and sky. They came from the stars. I am of the stars.

My mother enjoyed old age, and because of her I've begun to enjoy parts of it too. So far I've had it good and am crumbling nicely.

To my surprise, my 70s are nicer than my 60s and my 60s than my 50s, and I wouldn't wish my teens and 20s on my enemies.

Children are a great comfort in your old age — and they help you reach it faster, too.

Everything people do that doesn't work has to be somebody else's fault. Next time you know, geezers'll be suing the government for getting old and kids'll be taking their mommies to court because they came out ugly.

Not that happiness is dull. Only that it doesn't tell well. And of our consuming diversions as we age is to recite, not only to others but to ourselves, our own story.

Not that happiness is dull. Only that it doesn't tell well. And one of our consuming diversions as we age is to recite, not only to others but to ourselves, our own story.

And one of our consuming diversions as we age is to recite, not only to others but to ourselves, our own story.

Oh, you knew exactly what I meant. Not that happiness is dull. Only that it doesn't tell well. And one of our consuming diversions as we age is to recite, not only to others but to ourselves, our own story.

Having buck teeth in junior high," she rounded up unsteadily, "must be ideal preparation for getting old. For pretty people, aging is a dumb shock. It's like, what's going on? Why doesn't anyone smile at me at checkout anymore? But it won't be a shock for me. It'll be, oh that. That again. Teeth.

To a man and woman, all of her elderly patients had been surprised to be old - which Avery privately regarded as a serious failure to pay attention.

Not that happiness is dull. Only that it doesn't tell well. And one of our consuming diversions as we age is to recite, not only to others but to ourselves, our own story. I should know; I am in flight from my story every day, and it dogs me like a faithful stray. Accordingly, the one respect in which I depart from my younger self is that I now regard those people who have little or no story to tell themselves as terribly fortunate.

How much kinder it would have been, to turn off, like an appliance. The gradual, drawn-out corruption of the body while its host was still trapped inside was a torture of a sort they would have contrived at Guantanamo, or Bergen-Belsen. Every old age was an Edgar Allan Poe story.

And one of our consuming diversions as we age is to recite, not only to others but to ourselves, our own story. I should know; I am in flight from my story every day, and it dogs me like a faithful stray. Accordingly, the one respect in which I depart from my younger self is that I now regard those people who have little or no story to tell themselves as terribly fortunate.

Speak of the devil. Luella had wandered in wearing what might once have been a stylish frock, but the hem was shredded from her having torn at it, and the sky-blue fabric was encrusted with food. The bloop of her stomach echoed the bulge of an adult diaper at the rear. Carter had grown accustomed to this decayed incarnation of his father's second wife, but fifteen years earlier the shock had been profound.

She herself was only sixty, though hers was the first generation to append "only" to such a sobering milestone.

the only good things about getting old was mutual permission to be imperfect.