Mike Wallace Quotes

My eyesight is not nearly as good. My hearing is probably going away. My memory is slipping too. But I'm still around.

It sucks getting old.

My health is good; it's my age that's bad.

I think the last couple of years of life for many, many people are the same as they were 50, 60, 70 years ago. They could be really tough because of infirmity.

You know you're getting old when all the names in your black book have M. D. after them.

It doesn't seem like it's been 50 years. I don't even feel like I'm 50 years old yet, though I've had all these knee and back operations.

It's no fun getting older. I might be wearing beautiful diamond earrings, but they can't take away the pain of losing my hearing.

When you get older, two things happen to you. You begin to lose your hearing, and I forget what the other one is.

I don't mind getting old except for the pain. I have two new knees, so going downstairs is not perfect. Nobody tells you about the pain.

I've got a little arthritis that I have to deal with. I was 6 feet 7 when I started, and I've shrunk up a little bit. I'm probably 6-5 or so now. But up here at 82, I feel pretty good. I'm sticking in there.

I just hate getting old - it's slowing me down.

Maybe it's true that life begins at fifty. But everything else starts to wear out, fall out, or spread out.

The discovery of a grey hair when you are brushing out your whiskers of a morning—first fallen flake of the coming snows of age—is a disagreeable thing.... So are flying twinges of gout, shortness of breath on the hill-side, the fact that even the moderate use of your friend's wines at dinner upsets you. These things are disagreeable because they tell you that you are no longer young—that you have passed through youth, are now in middle age, and faring onward to the shadows in which, somewhere, a grave is hid.

Getting old is not for sissies.

What's the worst thing about getting old? Getting old.

When you approach middle age, lots of stuff happens. Your body is aging, you're watching people around you get sick, you're watching people die, your mortality becomes very present at that point in your life.

Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short; youth is nimble, age is lame; Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold; Youth is wild, and age is tame.

The truth is I'm getting old, I said. We already are old, she said with a sigh. What happens is that you don't feel it on the inside, but from the outside everybody can see it.

But with what incessant and grievous ills is old age surrounded!

That fair face will as years roll on lose its beauty, and old age will bring its wrinkles to the brow.

My diseases are an asthma and a dropsy and, what is less curable, seventy-five.

Age overtakes us all; Our temples first; then on o'er cheek and chin, Slowly and surely, creep the frosts of Time. Up and do somewhat, ere thy limbs are sere.

Old age makes caricatures of us all.

You have to embrace getting older.

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.