Believing hear, what you deserve to hear: Your birthday as my own to me is dear… But yours gives most; for mine did only lend Me to the world; yours gave to me a friend.
They say that age is all in your mind. The trick is keeping it from creeping down into your body.
There is still no cure for the common birthday.
I still have a full deck; I just shuffle slower now.
Because time itself is like a spiral, something special happens on your birthday each year: The same energy that God invested in you at birth is present once again.
In childhood, we yearn to be grown-ups. In old age, we yearn to be kids. It just seems that all would be wonderful if we didn’t have to celebrate our birthdays in chronological order.
Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act.
Middle age is having a choice between two temptations and choosing the one that’ll get you home earlier.
Birthdays are good for you. Statistics show that the people who have the most live the longest.
I’m sixty years of age. That’s 16 Celsius.
Youth is a disease from which we all recover.
You are only young once, but you can stay immature indefinitely.
Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what happened.
Wisdom doesn’t necessarily come with age. Sometimes age just shows up all by itself.
You’re not 40, you’re eighteen with 22 years experience.
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