Judges don't age. Time decorates them.
After forty years of marriage we still stood with broken swords in our hands.
Marriage. The beginning and the end are wonderful. But the middle part is hell.
In marriage there are no manners to keep up, and beneath the wildest accusations no real criticism. Each is familiar with that ancient child in the other who may erupt again. We are not ridiculous to ourselves. We are ageless. That is the luxury of the wedding ring.
You will be old-fashioned one day. It's more shocking than getting old.
The pleasure of one's effect on other people still exists in age - what's called making a hit. But the hit is much rarer and made of different stuff.
One never knows when one is old for certain.