It is always in season for old men to learn.

The old are in a second childhood.

Weak withering age no rigid law forbids. With frugal nectar, smooth and slow with balm, The sapless habit daily to bedew, And give the hesitating wheels of life Gliblier to play.

What is it to grow old? Is it to lose the glory of the form, The lustre of the eye? Is it for Beauty to forego her wreath? Yes; but not this alone.

On one occasion some one put a very little wine into a wine cooler, and said that it was sixteen years old. "It is very small for its age," said Gnathaena.

Old wood best to burn, old wine to drink, old friends to trust, and old authors to read.

Men of age object too much, consult too long, adventure too little, repent too soon, and seldom drive business home to the full period, but content themselves with a mediocrity of success.

Old age come on apace to ravage all the clime.

Old age doth in sharp pains abound; We are belabored by the gout, Our blindness is a dark profound, Our deafness each one laughs about. Then reason's light with falling ray Doth but a trembling flicker cast. Honor to age, ye children pay! Alas! my fifty years are past!

And Moses was an hundred and twenty years old when he died: his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated.

Forsake not an old friend; for the new is not comparable to him: a new friend is as new wine; when it is old, thou shalt drink it with pleasure.

And thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace; thou shalt be buried in a good old age.

Now Abraham and Sarah were old and well stricken in age; and it ceased to be with Sarah after the manner of women.

And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.

The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it soon cut off, and we fly away.

So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.

By candle-light nobody would have taken you for above five-and-twenty.

Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.

What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each love one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth as I am now.

He has grown aged in this world of woe, In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life. So that no wonder waits him.