When You Are Forty, Half

Life Is A Wonderful Thing To Talk About, Or To Read About In History Books - But It Is Terrible When One Has To Live It.

When You Are Forty, Half Of You Belongs To The Past... And When You Are Seventy, Nearly All Of You.

One Can Make One's Life A Complete Misery, Worrying About Burglaries And Shipwrecks, But Ask Anyone, Anyone You Know ... Earth-shattering Disasters And Fabulous Inheritances All Seems To Take Place Exclusively In The Newspapers.

Obligations, Hatreds, Injuries; What Did I Expect My Memories To Be? I Was Forgetting Remorse. Now I Have A Complete Past.

The Only Immorality Is Not To Do What One Has To Do When One Has To Do It.