Quotes About Aging

Lo de morir despacio y dejar un cadáver gastadísimo me gusta.

It's hard on Mom, though, a nurse's aid at a nursing home, taking care of old people all day and then coming home to Gramps, who lately has been having trouble remembering our names.

How obvious can it be? ... The purpose of makeup is to defy the degradations of time, and time is just a synonym for death.

You will always see less as you grow older, otherwise you would not want to go on.

Je me suis souvenue des soixante ans de mon père. On avait mangé une choucroute à la République. C'était l'âge qu'avaient les parents. Un âge immense et abstrait. Maintenant c'est toi qui l'as. Comment est-ce possible? Une fille fait les quatre cents coups, se trimbale dans la vie juchée et peinturlurée et tout à coup se met à avoir soixante ans.

Getting old," I said with some restraint, "means to be done with compassion.

Les vieux, des gens d'une autre époque mis dans le futur.

As old age approached, Eguchi would, on nights when he had difficulty sleeping, sometimes remember the woman's words, and count up numbers of women on his fingers; but he did not stop at anything so simple as picturing those he would not mind kissing. He would travel back over memories of women with whom he had had affairs. An old love had come back tonight because the sleeping beauty had given him the illusion that he smelled milk.

She was not a living doll, for there could be no living doll; but, so as not to shame an old man no longer a man, she had been made into a living toy. No, not a toy: for the old men, she could be life itself. Such life was, perhaps, life to be touched with confidence.

Eguchi sintió una oleada de compasión por ella. Se le ocurrió una idea: los viejos tienen la muerte, y los jóvenes el amor, y la muerte viene una sola vez y el amor muchas.

Estoy intentando pensar como los ancianos que están más tristes que yo

As death approaches, memory erodes. Recent memories are the first to succumb. Death works its way backward until it reaches memory's earliest beginnings. Then memory flares up for an instant, just like a flame about to go out. That is the 'prayer in the mother tongue.' -from A Prayer in the Mother Tongue

He went to the house, he said, when the despair of old age was too much for him.

It was a triviality, but the girl whose breast had been wet with blood had taught him that a man's lips could draw blood from almost any part of a woman's body; and, although afterwards Eguchi had avoided going to that extreme, the memory, the gift from a woman bringing strength to a man's whole life, was still with him, a full sixty-seven years old.

Some people are old at 18 and some are young at 90. Time is a concept that humans created.

Pretty girls lie at the centre of straight culture, dyke culture, fag culture. They sell everything, they buy everything, they ruin great men and women, and finally they ruin themselves, accidentally, simply by getting old.

And in the past, Archie wondered, was it just that fewer people cheated? Were they more honest, and did they leave their front doors open, did they leave their kids with the neighbors, pay social calls, run up tabs with the butcher? The funny thing about getting old in a country is people always want to hear that from you. They want to hear it really was once a green and pleasant land. They need it.

Well, you can't make old friends.

Once they were the same age. Now Leah is aging in dog years. Her thirty-five is seven times his, and seven times more important, so important he has to keep reminding her of the numbers, in case she forgets.

Ages of rain had run down the slope, circling, eddying in depressions, wearing deep round holes. There had been dry seasons, accumulations of dust, wind-blown seeds, and cedars rose wonderfully out of solid rock. But these were not beautiful cedars. They were gnarled, twisted, into weird contortions, as if growth were torture, dead at the tops, shrunken, gray, and old. Theirs had been a bitter fight.

Time makes everything old so the kissing, young darkness became a monstropolous old thing while Janie talked.

But if I should live to be very old, I have laid plans for that so that it will not be too tiresome. So far, I have never used coffee, liquor, nor any form of stimulant. When I get old, and my joints and bones tell me about it, I can sit around and write for myself, if for nobody else, and read slowly and carefully the mysticism of the East, and re-read Spinoza with love and care. All the while my days can be a succession of coffee cups. Then

I don't think you should write a book until you tell the absolute truth. You can't do that until you're 85, and I don't want to live that long. I've always prided myself on knowing when to get off, and I hope it works out that way.

I feel really good about the things I've accomplished in my life, and I don't want to look younger.