Old age is an ordeal, of flesh and mind. Of winding down, of slowing down, of dying cells. It's accepting the loss of physical attractiveness and replacing it with the power and wisdom that can only come with old age.

There is no doubt that it is more difficult to read and more difficult to write but I still manage.

When we press the thorn to our chest we know, we understand, and still we do it.

I escaped the torture of my childhood home by reading. To this day it is still one of my greatest pleasures.

My husband says it is very good that I have very tiny feet, because they're easier to get in my mouth.

How frightening, that one person could mean so much, so many things.

Yet there's something ominous about turning sixty-five. Suddenly old age is not a phenomenon which will occur; it has occurred.