No matter how old a mother is, she watches her middle-aged children for signs of improvement.
It is not easy to be sure that being yourself is worth the trouble, but we do know it is our sacred duty.
Age puzzles me. I thought it was a quiet time. My seventies were interesting and fairly serene, but my eighties are passionate. I grow more intense as I age.
My kitchen linoleum is so black and shiny that I waltz while I wait for the kettle to boil. This pleasure is for the old who live alone.
Life does not accommodate you; it shatters you. Every seed destroys its container, or else there would be no fruition.
