Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

By the time you've reached your sixties, you do know that one day you will die, and knowing that is at least the beginning of wisdom.

And indeed there will be time To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?" Time to turn back and descend the stair, With a bald spot in the middle of my hair.

It was a meditation on life, love, old age, death: ideas that had often fluttered around her head like nocturnal birds but dissolved into a trickle of feathers when she tried to catch hold of them.

I'm turning 58, and you get that kind of weird, old-guy feeling of you don't have an infinite number of years left and if there's anything you want to say or represent, it's time to try it.

I've come to believe that whoever I am didn't start on December 14, 1946, and isn't going to end on whatever that mysterious date is in the future.

If the limit of age 80 is at the summit of Mt Everest, the highest place on Earth, one can never be happier.

In this respect early youth is exactly like old age; it is a time of waiting for a big trip to an unknown destination. The chief difference is that youth waits for the morning limited and age waits for the night train.

Time, in general, has always been a central obsession of mine - what it does to people, how it can constitute a plot all on its own. So naturally, I am interested in old age.

Old age is just a record of one's whole life.

I'm 80 years old, and I don't know what I'm going to be when I grow up.

I'm going to be 75 in May. How can I have lived this long and not know anything?

And what's a life? - a weary pilgrimage, Whose glory in one day doth fill the stage With childhood, manhood, and decrepit age.

I have a lot of growing up to do. But I think, 'Hell, is it too late?'

It's one of the great fallacies, it seems to me, that time gives much of anything but years and sadness to man.

Time enough to think of the future when you haven't any future to think of.

…tomorrow was her birthday, and she was thinking how fast the years went by, how old she was getting, and how little she seemed to have accomplished. Almost twenty-five and nothing to show for it.

I guess what I'm passionate about is, I see so many things that I find that there's no real solution to, and you're only here for such a brief moment in time, even if you live to be a hundred years old. Yet, what happens within that time frame? So many things happen.

But years hath done this wrong, To make me write too much, and live too long.

I saw the years of my life spaced along a road in the form of telephone poles threaded together by wires. I counted one, two, three... nineteen telephone poles, and then the wires dangled into space, and try as I would, I couldn't see a single pole beyond the nineteenth.

When your memories exceed your dreams, the end is near.

The years have gone by quickly. Death sits in the seat next to me. We make a lovely couple.

Tomorrow! - Why, tomorrow I may be Myself with yesterday's sev'n thousand years.

I don't worry about it because we are all growing old. If I were the only one I would worry. But we're all in the same boat, and all of my friends are coming with me. We all go toward old age. How many years left we don't know. We just have to accept it.

I think when I'm 80 years old, 85, hopefully, I'll be pushed around in a wheelchair by a red-headed nurse with panty outline. She'll make me little tequila sunrises and I'll read my complete works then. Then, I'll decide whether I think I've done something good or not. I'll reserve my judgment until then.