Sirio Maccioni Quotes

The public is absolutely fascinated by aging. They don't want to get old. And you can see - read Shakespeare. Read the sonnets. They're all about aging.

Don't get old, if you can avoid it.

Every time I think that I am getting old, and gradually going to the grave, something else happens.

Each day it's like: 'How many more days am I going to feel young and vibrant? I feel young and vibrant now, but I also feel the aches and pains a little bit.

I'm getting so old, I don't even buy green bananas anymore.

Every time I think that I'm getting old, and gradually going to the grave, something else happens.

'Aging' has been bad ever since we figured out it led to dying.

All diseases run into one, old age.

The aging process has you firmly in its grasp if you never get the urge to throw a snowball.

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

Age carries all things away, even the mind.

Sometimes I wake up, I feel like, I'm like 80-years-old.

I thoroughly object to getting old. If you could let me be 16 again, I'd give you everything I've got and everything I'll ever have.

I think that a man should not live beyond the age when he begins to deteriorate, when the flame that lighted the brightest moment of his life has weakened.

Old age is a shipwreck.

Old age is the supreme evil, for it deprives man of all pleasures while allowing his appetites to remain, and it brings with it every possible sorrow. Yet men fear death and desire old age.

I am getting old, so I really don't like clocks.

I don’t like getting old at all, but then again, who does?

Of course, it's no fun getting old and getting sick and dying; we all know that's coming, and it's a bore.

Old age is a tyrant, who forbids, under pain of death, the pleasures of youth.

Nobody stays young forever.

I'm not getting old, I'm getting dead.

But, Lord Crist! whan that it remembreth me Upon my yowthe, and on my jolitee, It tickleth me aboute myn herte roote. Unto this day it dooth myn herte boote That I have had my world as in my tyme. But age, alias! that al wole envenyme, Hath me biraft my beautee and my pith. Lat go, farewel! the devel go therwith! The flour is goon, ther is namoore to telle; The bren, as I best kan, now most I selle.

[But] age, the common enemy of mankind, has laid his hand upon you; would that it had fallen upon some other, and that you were still young.

I do not myself find it agreeable to be 90, and I cannot imagine why it should seem so to other people. It is not that you have any fears about your own death, it is that your upholstery is already dead around you.