Welcome to Voices, a cornucopia of evocative thoughts and observations from our world’s most elegant minds. I will be expanding the collection regularly, so if you have quotes to share with us, please email them to Coming of Age Croneicles. Enjoy!!!
To have that sense of one’s intrinsic worth which constitutes self-respect is potentially to have everything: the ability to discriminate, to love and to remain indifferent. To lack it is to be locked within oneself, paradoxically incapable of either love or indifference.
The most difficult times for many of us are the ones we give ourselves.
I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refuse to be reduced by it. The desire to reach for the stars is ambitious. The desire to reach hearts is wise.
Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.
Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.
Sometimes I go about pitying myself, and all the time I am being carried on great winds across the sky.
I have known the joy and pain of friendship. I have served and been served. I have made some good enemies for which I am not a bit sorry. I have loved unselfishly, and I have fondled hatred with the red-hot tongs of Hell. That’s living.
You know you’re getting old when you stoop to tie your shoelaces and wonder what else you could do while you’re down there.
There is such a thing as too much beauty in a woman and it is often a burden as crippling as homeliness and far more dangerous. It takes much luck and integrity to survive the gift of perfect beauty, and its impermanence is its most cunning betrayal.
It is the virulence of Texas sexism that accounts for the strength of Texas women. It is what we have to overcome that makes us such formidable survivors.
We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.
The events in our lives happen in a sequence in time, but in their own order and significance to ourselves. They find their own order, a timetable not necessarily chronological. The time as we know it subjectively is often the chronology that stories and novels follow: it is the continuous thread of revelation.
Old People Are Works of Art – Eleanor Roosevelt
Beautiful young people are accidents of nature, but beautiful old people are works of art.
Every Day, Think As You Wake – The Dalai Lama
Every day, think as you wake up, today I am fortunate to be alive, I have a precious human life, I am not going to waste it. I am going to use all my energies to develop myself, to expand my heart out to others; to achieve enlightenment for the benefit of all beings. I am going to have kind thoughts towards others, I am not going to get angry or think badly about others. I am going to benefit others as much as I can.
We Become What We Think – The Buddha Our life is shaped by our mind; we become what we think. Suffering follows an evil thought as the wheels of a cart follow the oxen that draws it. Our life is shaped by our mind; we become what we think. Joy follows a pure thought like a shadow that never leaves.
At twenty we worry about what others think of us; at forty we don’t care about what others think of us; at sixty we discover they haven’t been thinking about us at all.
If One Changes Internally – Anäis Nin If one changes internally, one should not continue to live with the same objects. They reflect one’s mind and psyche of yesterday. I throw away what has no dynamic, living use. I keep nothing to remind me of the passage of time, deterioration, loss, shriveling.
Old age ain’t no place for sissies.
An Old Texas Tradition: Never let the truth stand in the way of telling a good story.
I look back on my life like a good day’s work, it was done and I feel satisfied with it. I was happy and contented, I knew nothing better and made the best out of what life offered. And life is what we make it, always has been, always will be.
That Via Dolorosa — Doris Lessing. The approach to old age, that Via Dolorosa, is presented to us as a long descent after the golden age of youth… But now start the delightful surprises. Best of all, not ever predicted nor, I think described, as fresh liveliness in experiencing. This must be what a very small child feels, looking out at the world for the first time: everything a wonder. Old age is a great reviver of memories, in more ways than one.
There’s always a lot to be thankful for if you take time to look for it. For example, I am sitting here thinking how nice it is that wrinkles don’t hurt.
The most important thing I can tell you about aging is this: If you really feel that you want to have an off-the-shoulder blouse and some big beads and thong sandals and a dirndl skirt and a magnolia in your hair, do it. Even if you’re wrinkled.
I think we are well-advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind’s door at 4 a.m. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends. We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget. We forget the loves and the betrayals alike, forget what we whispered and what we screamed, forget who we were.
When women age into their power, no wind can upset, no hand turn aside their knowledge. When we are young, the words are scattered all around us. As they are assembled by experience, so also are we, sentence by sentence, until the story takes shape.
The secret to a good old age is an honorable pact with solitude.