By my rambling digressions I perceive myself to be growing old.
Growing older is like climbing a mountain: the higher you get, the more strength you need, but the further you see.
The world is growing old;Who would not be at rest and freeWhere love is never cold?
The clock never stops, never stops, never waits. We're growing old. It's getting late.
I don't worry about it because we are all growing old. If I were the only one I would worry. But we're all in the same boat, and all of my friends are coming with me. We all go toward old age. How many years left we don't know. We just have to accept it.
Growing older is an opportunity for you to increase your value and competence as the neural connections in your hippocampus and throughout your brain increase, weaving into your brain and body the wisdom of a life well lived, which allows you to stop living out of fear of disappointing others and being imperfect. Ageless living is courageous living. It means being undistracted by the petty dramas of life because you have enough experience to know what’s not worth worrying about and what ought to be your priorities.
Growing old is, of all things we experience, that which takes the most courage, and at a time when we have the least resources, especially with which to meet frustration.
Listen up and I'll tell a story about an artist growing old. Some would try for fame and glory; others aren't so bold.
I may have grown up in the Age of Aquarius, but I'm growing old in the Age of the Acronym.
But I can tell - let truth be told - That love will change in growing old; Though day by day is nought to see, So delicate his motions be.
In New Mexico, he always awoke a young man, not until he arose and began to shave did he realize that he was growing older. His first consciousness was a sense of the light dry wind blowing in through the windows, with the fragrance of hot sun and sage-brush and sweet clover; a wind that made one's body feel light and one's heart cry 'To-day, to-day,' like a child's.
Is that growing old? Or is it something worse?
Jenny kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in: Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, Say that health and wealth have missed me, Say I'm growing old, but add-- Jenny kissed me!
Yes, I am sad, sad as a circus-lioness, sad as an eagle without wings, sad as a violin with only one string and that one broken, sad as a woman who is growing old. Sad, sad, sad.
Growing old is unavoidable, but never growing up is possible. I believe you can retain certain things from your childhood if you protect them - certain traits, certain places where you don’t let the world go.
Here's a song was never sung: Growing old is dying young.
Of course you keep telling yourself there's something to be learned from everything, and growing old shouldn't be that hard. That's the general drift.
One great thing about growing old is that nothing is going to lead to anything. Everything is of the moment.
Thats because, like everyone else on the planet, you believed that time would teach you to grow closer to God. But time doesnt teach; it merely brings us a sense of weariness and of growing older.
There are compensations for growing older. One is the realization that to be sporting isn't at all necessary. It is a great relief to reach this stage of wisdom.
Growing older is not upsetting; being perceived as old is.
The child thinks of growing old as an almost obscene calamity, which for some mysterious reason will never happen to itself. All who have passed the age of thirty are joyless grotesques, endlessly fussing about things of no importance and staying alive without, so far as the child can see, having anything to live for. Only child life is real life.
O Day after day we can't help growing older. Year after year spring can't help seeming younger. Come let's enjoy our winecup today, Nor pity the flowers fallen.
Growing older is mainly an ordeal of the imagination-a moral disease, a social pathology.
Nobody ever said that growing old would be easy. Just having to hold the newspaper out in your forties and then hair growing out of unusual parts of your body in your fifties. It's tough on the ego.
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