Most popular aging quotes
The best armor of old age is a well-spent life preceding it.
The aging process has you firmly in its grasp if you never get the urge to throw a snowball.
Growing old is like being increasingly penalized for a crime you haven't committed.
It's sad to grow old—but nice to ripen.
The older you get, the greater you were.
It is sad to grow old but nice to ripen.
I'm not aging. I'm ripening to perfection.
Years steal Fire from the mind as vigor from the limb.
Childhood does sometimes pay a second visit to man—youth never.
The older I grow, the more I listen to people who don't talk much.
The best thing about growing older is that it takes such a long time.
We grow neither better nor worse as we grow old, but more like ourselves.
One advantage in growing older is that you can stand for more and fall for less.
You're not as young as you used to be but you're not as old as you're going to be.
When I no longer thrill to the first snow of the season, I'll know I'm growing old.
You don't stop laughing because you grow old; you grow old because you stop laughing.
We don't understand life any better at forty than at twenty, but we know it and admit it.
The great thing about getting older is that you don't lose all the other ages you've been.
Beautiful young people are accidents of nature, but beautiful old people are works of art.
There are people whose watch stops at a certain hour and who remain permanently at that age.
I used to think getting old was about vanity but actually it's about losing people you love.
Grandchildren don't make a man feel old; it's the knowledge that he's married to a grandmother.
I used to think that getting old was about vanity—but actually it's about losing people you love.
When the problem is not so much resisting temptation as finding it, you may just be getting older.
I don't believe in aging. I believe in forever altering one's aspect to the sun. Hence my optimism.
I have been asked, "How do you grow old so easily?" I reply, "Very easily. I give all my time to it."
As you get older, you find that often the wheat, disentangling itself from the chaff, comes out to meet you.
You show me anyone who's lived to over seventy, and you show me a fighter—someone who's got the will to live.
One day, there's a hand that goes over the face and changes it. You look like an apple that isn't young anymore.
To know how to grow old is the masterwork of wisdom, and one of the most difficult chapters in the great art of living.
There is always some specific moment when we become aware that our youth is gone; but, years after, we know it was much later.
Of all the self-fulfilling prophecies in our culture, the assumption that aging means decline and poor health is probably the deadliest.
At twenty a man is a peacock, at thirty a lion, at forty a camel, at fifty a serpent, at sixty a dog, at seventy an ape, and at eighty nothing.
And my breasts—it's better not to mention them at all except to say that they seemed to be in a race to see which could be first to reach my knees.
It is a mistake to regard age as a downhill grade toward dissolution. The reverse is true. As one grows older one climbs with surprising strides.
I've found two gray hairs in my head the week before last, and an impertinent crow has planted a delicate impression of his foot under my right eye.
I'm getting more experienced at aging. I'm like the man who jumped off the skyscraper and at the 5th floor on the way down says, 'So far this is not a bad ride.'
Mostly, what I have learned so far about aging, despite the creakiness of one's bones and the cragginess of one's once-silken skin, is this: do it. By all means, do it.
Every generous illusion of youth leaves a wrinkle as it departs. Experience is the successive disenchanting of the things of life; it is reason enriched with the heart's spoils.
To grow old is to have taken away, one by one, all gifts of life, the food and wine, the music and the company.... The gods unloose, one by one, the mortal fingers that cling to the edge of the table.
In spite of illness, in spite even of the archenemy sorrow, one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in small ways.
He hated the sight of his beard.... He hated also the outcropping of gray that had insidiously appeared in his mustache, on the left side of his chin, and in his sideburns. These gray bristles were, he knew, the advance scouts of a relentless, wintry invasion. And there would be no stopping the march of the hours, the days, the years.