Ageing

"How far the gulf-stream of our youth may flow Into the arctic regions of our lives, Where little else than life itself survives."

"Whatever poet, orator, or sage May say of it, old age is still old age."

"For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in another dress, And as the evening twilight fades away The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day."

"And the bright faces of my young companions Are wrinkled like my own, or are no more."

"The course of my long life hath reached at last, In fragile bark o'er a tempestuous sea, The common harbor, where must rendered be, Account of all the actions of the past."

"Age is not all decay; it is the ripening, the swelling, of the fresh life within, that withers and bursts the husk."

"What find you better or more honorable than age? Take the preeminence of it in everything;—in an old friend, in old wine, in an old pedigree."

"When you try to conceal your wrinkles, Polla, with paste made from beans, you deceive yourself, not me. Let a defect, which is possibly but small, appear undisguised. A fault concealed is presumed to be great."

"Set is the sun of my years; And over a few poor ashes, I sit in my darkness and tears."

"Old wood to burn! Old wine to drink! Old friends to trust! Old authors to read!—Alonso of Aragon was wont to say in commendation of age, that age appeared to be best in these four things."

"The ages roll Forward; and forward with them, draw my soul Into time's infinite sea. And to be glad, or sad, I care no more; But to have done, and to have been, before I cease to do and be."

"So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease Gather'd, not harshly pluck'd, for death mature."

"So Life's year begins and closes; Days, though short'ning, still can shine; What though youth gave love and roses, Age still leaves us friends and wine."

"We age inevitably: The old joys fade and are gone: And at last comes equanimity and the flame burning clear."

"Thyself no more deceive, thy youth hath fled."

"Senex cum extemplo est, jam nec sentit, nec sapit; Ajunt solere eum rursum repuerascere."

": When a man reaches the last stage of life,—without senses or mentality—they say that he has grown a child again."

"Why will you break the Sabbath of my days? Now sick alike of Envy and of Praise."

"Learn to live well, or fairly make your will; You've played, and loved, and ate, and drank your fill. Walk sober off, before a sprightlier age Comes tittering on, and shoves you from the stage."

"Me let the tender office long engage To rock the cradle of reposing age; With lenient arts extend a mother's breath, Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of death; Explore the thought, explain the asking eye! And keep awhile one parent from the sky."

"Every moment age is creeping up stealthily, but life, life is melting down like a candle that is flickering around."

"His leaf also shall not wither."

"The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away."

"So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom."

"Das Alter ist nicht trübe weil darin unsere Freuden, sondern weil unsere Hoffnungen aufhören."

": What makes old age so sad is, not that our joys but that our hopes cease."

"Age has now Stamped with its signet that ingenuous brow."

"O, roses for the flush of youth, And laurel for the perfect prime; But pluck an ivy branch for me, Grown old before my time."

"I'm growing fonder of my staff; I'm growing dimmer in the eyes; I'm growing fainter in my laugh; I'm growing deeper in my sighs; I'm growing careless of my dress; I'm growing frugal of my gold; I'm growing wise; I'm growing,—yes,— I'm growing old."

"On his bold visage middle age Had slightly press'd its signet sage."

"Thus pleasures fade away; Youth, talents, beauty, thus decay, And leave us dark, forlorn, and gray."

"Thus aged men, full loth and slow, The vanities of life forego, And count their youthful follies o'er, Till Memory lends her light no more."

"Old friends are best. King James us'd to call for his Old Shoes, they were easiest for his Feet."

"Nihil turpius est, quam grandis natu senex, qui nullum aliud habet argumentum, quo se probet diu vixisse, præter ætatem."

": Nothing is more dishonourable than an old man, heavy with years, who has no other evidence of his having lived long except his age."

"Turpis et ridicula res est elementarius senex: juveni parandum, seni utendum est."

": An old man in his rudiments is a disgraceful object. It is for youth to acquire, and for age to apply."

"Senectus insanabilis morbus est."

": Old age is an incurable disease."

"Every pleasure defers to its last its greatest delights."

"For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time Steals ere we can effect them."

"Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty; For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo The means of weakness and debility; Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly."

"All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing."

"There is an old poor man Oppressed with two weak evils, age and hunger."

"Though now this grained face of mine be hid In sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow, And all the conduits of my blood froze up, Yet hath my night of life some memory."

"What should we speak of When we are old as you? When we shall hear The rain and wind beat dark December."

"An old man is twice a child."

"At your age, The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waits upon the judgment."

"Begin to patch up thine old body for heaven."

"Some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time."