I will never be an old man. To me, old age is always 15 years older than I am.
The age of a woman doesn’t mean a thing. The best tunes are played on the oldest fiddles.
Old age is not a disease – it is strength and survivorship, triumph over all kinds of vicissitudes and disappointments, trials and illnesses.
I meet so many that think population growth is a major problem in regard to climate change. But the number of children born per year in the world has stopped growing since 1990. The total number of children below 15 years of age in the world are now relatively stable around 2 billion.
Our culture is intent on taking the lines out of people’s faces – surgically, with costly creams, and with fear and trembling – when, in fact, the opposite should be the case. As artists know, if there is anything behind a face, that face improves with age.
There was an age, however, when the transition from savagery to civilization, with all its impressive outward manifestations in art and architecture, took place for the first time.
I grew up in the prolonged survival of the great age of the horse, with harness and saddle and sleigh bells and horse pictures, not as antiques but the facts of our lives.
When I think of how we show faith, I cannot help but think of the example of my own father. I recall vividly how the spirit of missionary work came into my life. I was about thirteen years of age when my father received a call to go on a mission.
The poetical language of an age should be the current language heightened.
This is the patent age of new inventions for killing bodies, and for saving souls. All propagated with the best intentions.