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Aging Quotes

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Aging Quotes

“[O]ver the years I travelled to another universe. However alert we are, however much we think we know what will happen, antiquity remains an unknown, unanticipated galaxy. It is alien, and old people are a separate form of life. They have green skin, with two heads that sprout antennae. They can be pleasant, they can be annoying--in the supermarket, these old ladies won't get out of my way--but most important they are permanently other. When we turn eighty, we understand that we are extraterrestrial. If we forget for a moment that we are old, we are reminded when we try to stand up, or when we encounter someone young, who appears to observe green skin, extra heads, and protuberances.”

“Days are slow, but years are racing fast. No matter how hard I try, my life is not going to last. My social circle is becoming thinner. Even after so many wins, why don’t I feel like a winner? When I look at myself in the mirror, I see an elderly staring at me with horror. So much remains untold, but my brain is losing its hold. Now that I have become so old, being alive is what I behold.”

“The young were at least smooth-skinned and straight; the old were flabby and wrinkled. At least, he thought, they should pony up some piece of timeless wisdom to make up for their wretchedness: yet most shambled from breakfast to bedtime in the same dumb state that had taken them through adolescence. A fair number had grown up quite simply dimwits, and stubbornly remained so even in their dotage. He wanted to venerate them, for with their lined faces and dignified bearing they reminded him of august men of state. But then they spoke.”

“The mythology of the superstud...' my friend, the poet Henti Drouille, had written on a slip of paper before putting a bullet in his head. His mistress cried out to me: 'I don’t understand - I don’t understand! He was such a marvelous lover!' True enough, so marvelous that she had noticed nothing. I saw in my mind the virile mask of Jim Daley and seemed to hear his voice saying: 'She was probably the clitoral type. Sometimes, a man gets a break this way.' No, one has to know when to stop.”

“Could it have come for me, too, the time to 'save my honor'? How many men leave an 'overly demanding' woman to duck the moment of truth when their inadequacy can no longer be disguised? [...] 'She doesn’t excite me anymore' neatly passes the buck by leaving the woman feeling she is to blame, that she has somehow lost her attraction, her sex appeal, whatever; it is a ploy typical of the aging cock-of-the-walk whose strutting and preening are meant to conceal his private failings.”

“What I dread is the moment when her understanding turns to compassion, and her tenderness, her concern, come dangerously close to pity and maternal solicitude as to change the very nature of our lovemaking. “No, no, my darling, we mustn’t, you will strain yourself....” p41 ... Of course I should have spoken to her frankly, from the first. But to name the Devil is to conjure him up. And the moods of lovers are contagious. There is that hazardous balance between them where the misery of the one brings on the insecurity and anxiety of the other; things quickly go from bad to worse , until they can no longer speak about it and the silence grows like a wall between them.”

“What I dread is the moment when her understanding turns to compassion, and her tenderness, her concern, come dangerously close to pity and maternal solicitude as to change the very nature of our lovemaking. 'No, no, my darling, we mustn’t, you will strain yourself...' Of course I should have spoken to her frankly, from the first. But to name the Devil is to conjure him up. And the moods of lover are contagious. There is that hazardous balance between them where the misery of the one brings on the insecurity and anxiety of the other; things quickly go from bad to worse, until they can no longer speak about it and the silence grows like a wall between them.”

“You are far too well informed a man to pretend that you don’t know what little game you are playing. If you have presentiments of death, it is because of certain wishes. You desire to escape sexual impotence - impotence, in short - and you wish for death to save you from all that. It is one of the virility’s favorite ploys.”

“Also, for the man, there is still one more loophole. If, by the grace of God, she’s humble by nature and and ready to assume guilt, she might just think: ‘I don’t turn him on,’ or ‘He doesn’t love me any longer.’ And there it is, then understanding between the sexes, my friend. You can always blame it on her.”

“My body had become that of an old liar, and my most spontaneous transports had begun to end in calculated maneuverings and delayed deliveries. It was no longer a question of self-esteem or pride; when I thought of breaking up with her, it was not to avoid some sort of discomfiture: it was a question of authenticity. I loved Laura too much to drag myself along on crutches in the wake of our love.”

“America isn't breaking apart at the seams. The American dream isn't dying. Our new racial and ethnic complexion hasn't triggered massive outbreaks of intolerance. Our generations aren't at each other's throats. They're living more interdependently than at any time in recent memory, because that turns out to be a good coping strategy in hard times. Our nation faces huge challenges, no doubt. So do the rest of the world's aging economic powers. If you had to pick a nation with the right stuff to ride out the coming demographic storm, you'd be crazy not to choose America, warts and all.”

“An op-ed in the Boston Globe, remarking on near-corpses who keep on doing what they've always done, compared me to Mick Jagger. Never before had I been so honored. The columnist mentioned others: Keith Richards, Alice Munro, and William Trevor, who was born the year I was. At seventy, Jagger is a juvenile among us eighty-five-year-olds—but his face as he jumps and gyrates resembles something retrieved from a bog.”

“Fig. 1.06: Initializing a variable to a new object, using a constructor, and realizing I was 30 years old when I wrote the first edition of this book, oh my god I am so old where did the time and my youth go!?”

“Be mindful and prevent possible conflict surrounding your belongings. Aging often produces a waning of energy, and sadly, not all of us will maintain a sound mind. Possible disability, mental or physical, can relegate sorting and dispersing one’s belongings to someone else who might not want the job.”

“The dominant narrative is a horror story. People with Alzheimer's are perceived as zombies, bodies without minds, waiting for valiant researchers to find a cure. For Alice and me, the story was different. Alzheimer's was a time of healing and magic. Of course, there is loss with dementia, but what matters is how we approach our losses and our gains. Reframing dementia as a different way of being, as a window into another reality, lets people living in that state be our teachers — useful, true humans who contribute to our collective good, instead of scary zombies.”

“I wear my wrinkles like battle scars, having earned every last one slaying life’s dragons. They boast of my victories and some defeats while their beauty is a wealth of wisdom gained.”

“There, I was hit again with a feeling I'd had rather frequently as of late. Deep in the night, or even in broad daylight, a sense of the transitory would abruptly arise, shocking me, slapping my clueless self with the truth of my own age and how much time had already passed, and so suddenly too, it seemed. It would hit hard. And it made me want to keep hold of everything and to toss it away. How could you even talk about that? What were the words for it? I just didn't know where it all went and how it went that fast. What we lost over a lifetime seemed so great.”

“So I'm only ten, she thought to herself. And then she imagined her future self, a middle-school Vera, a high-school Vera, a college Vera, a girlfriend Vera, a woman-in-STEM Vera, a mommy Vera, all looking back at this ten-year-old present-day, present-second Vera with all the pity and wonder and faith that older people needed to just get through the rest of their lives.”

“Without knowing why or how, I found myself in love with this strange Wanderess. Maybe I was just in love with the dream she was selling me: a life of destiny and fate; as my own life up until we met had been so void of enchantment. Those things: mystery, fate, enchantment... they are things that young people offer us as soon as we get close to them. And if we're not careful, we can be seduced by, and drawn back into, the youthful world they preside over.”