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age

“Do you remember what I forgot?”

— Erica Goros, Share via Whatsapp

“Ik ben niet bevreesd, noch voor de ouderdom noch voor de dood, maar berusting is me schrikbeeld. Nooit zou ik aan de oevers waar braafheid en gezapigheid wonen, willen aanleggen. Ik ben nu vijfentachtig, ik schrijf nog steeds en ik zou nog tot liefhebben in staat zijn.”

— claire goll, Share via Whatsapp

“When Lytle was born, the Wright Brothers had not yet achieved a working design. When he died, Voyager 2 was exiting the solar system. What does one do with the coexistence of those details in a lifetime’s view? It weighed on him.”

— John Jeremiah Sullivan, Pulphead, Share via Whatsapp

“A man doesn t grow old because he has lived a certain number of years. A man grows old when he deserts his ideal. The years may wrinkle his skin, but deserting his ideal wrinkles his soul.”

— Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel: Good News for the Bedraggled, Beat-Up, and Burnt Out, Share via Whatsapp

“I felt suddenly very young - or perhaps I felt my age: an almost childlike twenty-two, rather than that permanent middle-age that attaches itself to the man who lives alone and supports himself by wearing a suit in a city not of his birth.”

— Mohsin Hamid, The Reluctant Fundamentalist, Share via Whatsapp

“He walked into the bathroom, wincing at himself in the mirror, that always more tired older brother.”

— J.G. Ballard, The Atrocity Exhibition, Share via Whatsapp

“At thirty a man suspects himself a fool; Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan; At fifty chides his infamous delay, Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve; In all the magnanimity of thought Resolves; and re-resolves; then dies the same.”

— Edward Young, Night Thoughts: Or, The Complaint And The Consolation, Share via Whatsapp

“Doesn t seem quite real. It s not meaningful. I can t quite imagine myself being 73. That s the age my father was! [Laughter.] How can I be his age? It s weird.”

— Don DeLillo, Share via Whatsapp

“It s my birthday, by the way, and as of 2:05 this morning (the time of my birth in the middle of a snow storm on the Fort Dix army base in New Jersey) I m 52 years old. I decided to say that because there s such pressure in our culture for women...well, for everybody...to stay perpetually young. And that s never going to change if we (women especially) don t embrace, enjoy, and take pride in each and every age that we pass through. I m not young, I m half a century old, and grateful to have made it this far. And I have this to say to the young women coming on behind me: 52 feels pretty damn good!”

— Terri Windling, Share via Whatsapp

“A writer s age at the time of a work s composition is never irrelevant.”

— Margaret Atwood, In Other Worlds: SF and the Human Imagination, Share via Whatsapp

“Life versus Death becomes, as Montaigne pointed out, Old Age versus Death. ”

— Julian Barnes, Nothing to Be Frightened of, Share via Whatsapp

“The faded glittering in his eyes is like a falling star on a dull autumn s day.”

— Anna Paszkiewicz, Share via Whatsapp

“Old age isn t so bad when you consider the alternatives.”

— Maurice Chevalier, Share via Whatsapp

“And there was this sweet-looking little old lady with her white hair in a bun and everything, the typical grandmother type, and she was swearing her head off. I guess Alzheimer s had brought out her inner sailor.”

— Vivian Vande Velde, Remembering Raquel, Share via Whatsapp

“when you live forever and don t age, it gives you time to hope”

— Laurell K. Hamilton, Share via Whatsapp

“هم يضحكون: الكبير(العجوز) مثل الصغير، ويقصدون بذلك أن أحدهما فقد عقله، أما الثاني لم يمتلكه بعد. هذا صحيح، الكبير والصغير هما فقط القادران بحساسية وحدة أن يُدهَشا لوجودهما، ولكل ما يحيط بهما في كل خطوة.”

— Valentin Rasputin, المهلة الأخيرة, Share via Whatsapp

“I was young at Myna, that first time. When had the change come? He had retreated to here, to Collegium, to spin his awkward webs of intrigue and to lecture at the College. Then, years on, the call had come for action. He had gone to that chest in which he stored his youth and found that, like some armour long unworn, it had rusted away. He tried to tell himself that this was not like the grumbling of any other man who finds the prime of his life behind him. I need my youth and strength now, as never before. A shame that one could no husband time until one needed it. All his thoughts rang hollow. He was past his best and that was the thorn that would not be plucked from his side. He was no different from any tradesman or scholar who, during a life of indolence, pauses partway up the stairs to think, This was not so hard, yesterday.”

— Adrian Tchaikovsky, Dragonfly Falling, Share via Whatsapp