Kate Christensen Quotes

Everyone must accept that we will age and age is not always flattering.

Everyone gets old - there's nothing you can do about it.

My first recognition of age setting in was exactly on my 36th birthday. I have no idea why, on this day of all days, I looked in the mirror and realized my face no longer looked young.

I don't love the fact that gravity is winning as I get older, but there's also a calmness that comes with it, which I'm secretly enjoying.

But the body fails us and the mirror knows, and we no longer insist that the gray hush be carried off its surface by the cloth, for we have run to fat, and wrinkles encircle the eyes and notch the neck where the skin wattles, and the flesh of the arms hangs loose like an overlarge sleeve, veins thicken like ropes and empurple the body as though they had been drawn there by a pen, freckles darken, liver spots appear, the hairah, the hair is exhausted and gray and lusterless, in weary rolls like cornered lint.

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.

I was 24 yesterday. Suddenly you wake up, and you get on the elevator, and there's a mirror there. And you look in the mirror, and you're an old man.

I'm aging, and the world is seeing it.

I'm getting older. That's realistic. I can't reverse time. I can slow it down a little bit.

For the first fourteen years for a rod they do while for the next as a pearl in the world they do shine. For the next trim beauty beginneth to swerve. For the next matrons or drudges they serve. For the next doth crave a staff for a stay. For the next a bier to fetch them away.

It's horrible getting older. I mean, it's wonderful because you see the circles of life get completed. But it's horrible losing your looks.

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.

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.

I see a guy getting old. I try to not look in the mirror too much.

Getting older is almost like changing species, from cute middle-aged, white-tailed deer, to yak.

Age is an ugly thing, and it goes on getting worse.

I am 54 and age is slowly writing itself on my face.

In the sixties, you're still thinking you could do something about this slow disintegration of the body.

I don't think I've aged gracefully.

Middle age is when your old classmates are so grey and wrinkled and bald they don't recognize you.

You know I used to be a heartthrob, and now I'm a coronary.

You get to a certain point in your life where you get closer to the end of your life than the beginning, and it colors your life, in a way.

We don't like to acknowledge that we're getting older. None of us do.

One thing that I really like to do is, I'll look in the mirror, and I'll imagine that I'm rapidly aging, until I'm just a skull.

As you get older, your metabolism slows down. You've got to admit it. It's nothing to be ashamed of if you have lived your life to the full.