Best 43 quotes in «old man quotes» category

Sonny shows me his phone. It’s a text message from Rapid, sent this morning, and it consists of one simple-but-not-so-simple question: Wanna meet up? My mouth drops. “Seriously?” “Seriously,” Sonny says. “Holy shit.” There’s one problem though. “Why haven’t you responded?” “I don’t know,” he says. “Part of me is like, hell yeah. The other part feels like this shit is too good to be true. What if he’s really a fifty-year-old man who lives in his mom’s basement and has a malicious plot to murder me and leave my body parts spread out across his backyard, unknown to anyone, until twenty years from now when a stray dog sniffs me out?” I stare at him. “The specifics in your examples are disturbing sometimes.

THE OLD MAN IN THE CORNER The man in the corner Is dying with words He's crying to be heard His days are marked And his only ears are birds He knows the secret to peace And his experience bleeds and hurts Somebody stop and listen Before he departs the earth! Somebody write his thoughts Before he hits the turf! His eyes are closing their shutters And he just dropped his Beads and stick. His breath is leaving us. Please! Somebody hear him out quick! A little girl rushes to him and Picks up his cane of wood. The old man then turns to her And faintly whispers, "The key to peace is To always stay fair And be good.

A soldier when aged is not appreciated; the love of an old man sickens.

Thump Milton loomed over Ree, a fabled man, his face a monument of Ozark stone, with juts and angles and cold shaded parts the sun never touched.

An old man was asked what had robbed him of joy in his life. His reply was, "Things that never happened.

There's no difference between a madman and a professor...it should be clear to you in the way they dress, act and think.

All wars are planned by old men in council rooms apart.

An old man at school is a contemptible and ridiculous object.

An old mans staffe is the rapper of deaths doore.

Be kind to an old man.

In Africa, when an old man dies, it's a library burning.

By working hard, old man, I hope to make something good one day. I haven't yet, but I am pursuing it and fighting for it . . . .

Finn smiled ruefully. "I'm a Prisoner, old man. Just like you.

Forward into the untrodden! Courage, old man, and hold on to your umbrella!

Hee wrongs not an old man that steales his supper from him.

I'm an old man at 54, without teeth, and with rheumatism.

Good to know we're all twelve years old mentally. Keeps things in perspective.

I am an old man who will live until I die," Anselmo said.

I was an old man when I was 12; and now I am an old man, AND IT'S SPLENDID!

It's incredibly unfair. You don't see a lot of 60-year-old women with 20-year-old men onscreen.

Love, in the sense of spontaneous, unreflective action, spells the death of the old man.

My old man never liked me. He gave me my allowance in traveler's checks.

Old men, when they scorne young, make much of death. [Old men, when they scorn young, make much of death.]

Old men go to Death, Death comes to Young men.

There's one thing my old man taught me and it's the best thing he taught me. It wasn't education at college or university – it was commonsense.

The ancient God created the old man, capable of erring - thus he erred himself.

Young men, listen to an old man to whom old men listened when he was young.

There we go again, old men and their stupid arguments. What a pain. ~Toshiro Hitsugaya

The worst thing an old man can be is a lover.

With my old man I got no respect. He told me never take candy from a stranger unless he offered me a ride.

Tranquility is the old man's milk.

In life, growth is imminent. And, growth without change, is unthinkable. And, to make the unthinkable thinkable, new roads need to be carved out by way of old ones. The old stands tall and firm and befriends the new to fall into place, with refined maturity and greater understanding and cultured admiration. It's simply pure Magic.

Does she ever see him watching her through the picture window? Most likely. Does she think he’s a lecherous old man? Very probably. But he isn’t exactly that. How to convey the mix of longing, wistfulness, and muted regret that he feels? His regret is that he isn’t a lecherous old man, but he wishes he were. He wishes he still could be.

I could hear an old man in the stall next to ours sucking a hustler’s cock; I thought of animals gathering at a salt lick during the night near a cave: carnivore rubbing shoulders with deer.

I know who the real hero is, and it isn't me or brave Lanaya. It's an old man with a white beard and a walking stick and a heart so big it won't let him stop thinking he can change the world by writing down things in a book no one will ever read.

Appreciate youthfulness and empathize with elderly people.

If you say, ‘Now I look like an old man’, you will start to look like an old man. If you say, ‘No, I look like a young man now’, you will start to look like a young man. What you project is what you will see. Soul is the form of projection and if false projections are done, the worldly life is created! If you come to a state free of false belief (wrong projection), You will be in the state of the ‘Real form of the Self’ (mood swaroop).

It is He who makes the lightning flash upon you, inspiring you with fear and hope, and gathers up the heavy clouds. The thunder sounds His praises, and the angels, too, in awe of him. He hurls his thunderbolts at whom He pleases. Yet the unbelievers wrangle about God.

Next door I could hear the old man’s soul flap its heavy vermillion butterfly wings as the hustler shot a load down his throat.

I used to be a poet. My words were traded in marketplaces like pieces of gold. Merchants bought my verses for as much as they paid for saffron and Indian jade. Now I am old... drunk on wine and candle fumes. Alone in this barren room, I speak my psalms to the night air so as to entertain moths before they go off to die. I used to be a poet and my words were gold.

Now, it’s time for me to lock up and go. Listen to me. Lock up an empty building that’s gonna be torn down. Makes no sense. Like an old man tellin’ a lie to his son from his death bed. What’s the point? Who besides yourself are you fooling?

Repression. Her therapist, Dr. Solomon, loved the word. He'd say it slowly, letting it roll off his tongue. Sometimes he'd add a chin stroke for good measure. He always looked pleased when he did this, like he'd discovered the Caramilk secret or something.

She looked at his face. So old and wrinkled. So beautiful and just right.