Old
(page 4)
Let us never know what old age is. Let us know the happiness time brings, not count the years.
I see Americans of every party, every background, every faith who believe that we are stronger together: black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American; young, old; gay, straight; men, women, folks with disabilities, all pledging allegiance under the same proud flag to this big, bold country that we love. That's what I see. That's the America I know!
Try to keep your soul young and quivering right up to old age.
It is time to remember that old wisdom our soldiers will never forget: that whether we are black or brown or white, we all bleed the same red blood of patriots, we all enjoy the same glorious freedoms, and we all salute the same great American Flag.
You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.
Following the light of the sun, we left the Old World.
Old friends pass away, new friends appear. It is just like the days. An old day passes, a new day arrives. The important thing is to make it meaningful: a meaningful friend — or a meaningful day.
How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?
Fishing is a delusion entirely surrounded by liars in old clothes.
There will be days when you feel defeated, exhausted, and plain old beat-up by life's whiplash. People you love will disappoint you — and you will disappoint them. You'll probably struggle with some kind of mortal appetite. Some days it will feel as though the veil between Heaven and Earth is made of reinforced concrete.
I am a firm believer in if you can't get it the old fashioned way, you don't need it.
If you are a leader, you should never forget that everyone needs encouragement. And everyone who receives it — young or old, successful or less-than-successful, unknown or famous — is changed by it.
Life's tragedy is that we get old too soon and wise too late.
I was kind of a dark kid. I loved Halloween, and I loved vampires and the black and white old monster movies.
The old days were the old days. And they were great days. But now is now.
We're still living with the old paradigm of age as an arch. That's the old metaphor: You're born, you peak at midlife and decline into decrepitude.
It's — the working class of San Francisco and the Bay Area is being pushed out of its old neighborhoods because of the skyrocketing cost of housing, and there's no real working class left because these are jobs for engineers and managers and designers — very smart people.
Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.
I do the 'New York Times' crossword puzzle every morning to keep the old grey matter ticking.
Imagine a judicial nominee said 'my experience as a white man makes me better than a Latina woman'. Wouldn't they have to withdraw? New racism is no better than old racism.
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