Like spring, but it is too young. I like
summer, but it is too proud. So I like best
of all autumn, because its tone is mellower,
its colors are richer, and it is tinged with
a little sorrow. Its golden richness speaks
not of the innocence of spring, nor the
power of summer, but of the mellowness and
kindly wisdom of approaching age. It knows
the limitations of life and its content.
-- Lin Yü-tang
1895-1976,
Chinese Writer and Philologist
For age is opportunity no less than youth
itself, though in another dress, and as the
evening twilight fades away, the sky is
filled with stars, invisible by day.
-- Henry
Wadsworth Longfellow
1819-1892,
American Poet
I venerate old age; and I love not the man
who can look without emotion upon the sunset
of life, when the dusk of evening begins to
gather over the watery eye, and the shadows
of twilight grow broader and deeper upon the
understanding.
-- Henry
Wadsworth Longfellow
1819-1892,
American Poet
To be seventy years old is like climbing the
Alps. You reach a snow-crowned summit, and
see behind you the deep valley stretching
miles and miles away, and before you other
summits higher and whiter, which you may
have strength to climb, or may not. Then you
sit down and meditate and wonder which it
will be.
-- Henry
Wadsworth Longfellow
1819-1892,
American Poet
