You May Also Like / View all maxioms
What is the worst of woes that wait on age?
What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow?
read more
What is the worst of woes that wait on age?
What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow?
To view each love one blotted from life's page,
And be alone on earth as I am now.
When a man of forty falls in love with a girl of twenty, it isn't her youth he is seeking read more
When a man of forty falls in love with a girl of twenty, it isn't her youth he is seeking but his own.
It spite of illness, in spite even of the archenemy sorrow, one can remain alive long past the usual date read more
It 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 a small way. -Edith Wharton.
Forty is the old age of youth, fifty is the youth of old age.
Forty is the old age of youth, fifty is the youth of old age.
Middle age . . . when a man is at the peak of his yearning power. -Wall Stress Journal.
Middle age . . . when a man is at the peak of his yearning power. -Wall Stress Journal.
As I grow older, I pay less attention to what men say. I just watch what they do. -Andrew Carnegie.
As I grow older, I pay less attention to what men say. I just watch what they do. -Andrew Carnegie.
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!
Growing old is like being increasingly penalized for a crime you haven't committed.
Growing old is like being increasingly penalized for a crime you haven't committed.
Just as old age is creeping on space,
And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day,
read more
Just as old age is creeping on space,
And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day,
They kindly leave us, though not quite alone,
But in good company--the gout or stone.