I have always felt that a woman has the right to treat the subject of her age with ambiguity until perhaps she passes into the realm of over ninety. Then it is better she be candid with herself and with the world.

The heart never grows better by age I fear rather worse always harder. A young liar will be an old one and a young knave will only be a greater knave as he grows older.

Better pass boldly into that other world in the full glory of some passion than fade and wither dismally with age.

No man is ever old enough to know better.

A comfortable old age is the reward of a well-spent youth. Instead of its bringing sad and melancholy prospects of decay it would give us hopes of eternal youth in a better world.