One of the delights known to age, and beyond the grasp of youth, is that of Not Going.

Youth is only being in a way like it might be an animal. No, it is not just like being an animal so much as being like one of these malenky toys you viddy being sold in the streets, like little chellovecks made out of tin and with a spring inside and then a winding handle on the outside and you wind it up grrr grrr grrr and off it itties, like walking, O my brothers. But it itties in a straight line and bangs straight into things bang bang and it cannot help what it is doing. Being young is like being like one of these malenky machines.

It occured to me that we will never be young again.

Memory tempers prosperity, mitigates adversity, controls youth, and delights old age.

It's always good to remember where you come from and celebrate it. To remember where you come from is part of where you're going.

Youth has no age.