Consider well the proportion of things. It is better to be a young June bug, than an old bird of read more

Consider well the proportion of things. It is better to be a young June bug, than an old bird of paradise. -Mark Twain.

Perfection of means and confusion of ends seem to characterize our age.

Perfection of means and confusion of ends seem to characterize our age.

At sixteen I was stupid, confused and indecisive. At twenty-five I was wise, self-confident, prepossessing and assertive. At forty-five I read more

At sixteen I was stupid, confused and indecisive. At twenty-five I was wise, self-confident, prepossessing and assertive. At forty-five I am stupid, confused, insecure and indecisive. Who would have supposed that maturity is only a short break in adolescence?

Believe that you're young enough, old enough, strong enough, and so on to accomplish everything you want to do.

Believe that you're young enough, old enough, strong enough, and so on to accomplish everything you want to do.

I believe the true function of age is memory. I'm recording as fast as I can.

I believe the true function of age is memory. I'm recording as fast as I can.

Old age doth in sharp pains abound;
We are belabored by the gout,
Our blindness is a read more

Old age doth in sharp pains abound;
We are belabored by the gout,
Our blindness is a dark profound,
Our deafness each one laughs about.
Then reason's light with falling ray
Doth but a trembling flicker cast.
Honor to age, ye children pay!
Alas! my fifty years are past!

That man never grows old who keeps a child in his heart

That man never grows old who keeps a child in his heart

And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that
bringeth forth his fruit in read more

And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that
bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not
wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.

What is it to grow old?
Is it to lose the glory of the form,
The lustre read more

What is it to grow old?
Is it to lose the glory of the form,
The lustre of the eye?
Is it for Beauty to forego her wreath?
Yes; but not this alone.