Our birthdays are feathers in the broad wing of time. >>
Sorrows are like thunderclouds, in the distance they look black, over >>
Death gives us sleep, eternal youth, and immortality. >>
One keeps forgetting old age up to the very brink of the grave. >>
We are happier in many ways when we are old than when we were young. T >>
As winter strips the leaves from around us, so that we may see the dis >>
Gray hairs seem to my fancy like the soft light of the moon, silvering over the evening of life.