Perfection is a trifle dull. It is not the least of life's ironies that this, which we all aim at, is better not quite achieved.

Old age is ready to undertake tasks that youth shirked because they would take too long.

We are not the same persons this year as last ; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.

Old age has its pleasures, which, though different, are not less than the pleasures of youth.