Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away. ~Dinah Craik
Are we not like two volumes of one book? ~Marceline Desbordes-Valmore
They say that age is all in your mind. The trick is keeping it from creeping down into your body. ~Author Unknown
Henry James once defined life as that predicament which precedes death, and certainly nobody owes you a debt of honor or gratitude for getting him into that predicament. But a child does owe his father a debt, if Dad, having gotten him into this peck of trouble, takes off his coat and buckles down to the job of showing his son how best to crash through it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland
Middle age is when your age starts to show around your middle. ~Bob Hope
Birthdays are good for you. Statistics show that the people who have the most live the longest. ~Larry Lorenzoni
Time may be a great healer, but it's a lousy beautician. ~Author Unknown
Henry James once defined life as that predicament which precedes death, and certainly nobody owes you a debt of honor or gratitude for getting him into that predicament. But a child does owe his father a debt, if Dad, having gotten him into this peck of trouble, takes off his coat and buckles down to the job of showing his son how best to crash through it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland
Youth is a wonderful thing. What a crime to waste it on children. ~George Bernard Shaw
I still have a full deck; I just shuffle slower now. ~Author Unknown
He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland
Our birthdays are feathers in the broad wing of time. ~Jean Paul Richter
There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself. ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994
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