The aged love what is practical while impetuous youth longs only for what is dazzling.
I have a Ph.D. in philosophy and sports science. At 14, I went through this really tough Soviet training system. A lot of my roommates got psychologically broken or physically injured. Either you came through, or you were out. I made my Ph.D. work in the field of young athletes aged 14-19 because at this age any human is changing.
One who is kind is sympathetic and gentle with others. He is considerate of others’ feelings and courteous in his behavior. He has a helpful nature. Kindness pardons others’ weaknesses and faults. Kindness is extended to all – to the aged and the young, to animals, to those low of station as well as the high.
Confidence is a plant of slow growth in an aged heart.
Not for a moment, beautiful aged Walt Whitman, have I failed to see your beard full of butterflies.
One aged man – one man – can’t fill a house.
An aged man is but a paltry thing, a tattered coat upon a stick, unless soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing for every tatter in its mortal dress.
I have often thought what a melancholy world this would be without children, and what an inhuman world without the aged.