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I am just over an attack of grippe-bronchitis, very unpleasant at my ages (I have two or three).
There are days when solitude, for someone of my age, is a heady wine which intoxicates you with freedom, others when it is a bitter tonic, and still others when it is a poison that makes you beat your head against the wall.
The fear of aging, a commonplace neurosis, does not usually wait for age and spares neither sex.
One keeps forgetting old age up to the very brink of the grave.
There is a certain melancholy in having to tell oneself that one has said good-bye — unless of course one is a grandmother — to the age and the circumstances that enable one to observe young children closely and passionately.
And what then is old age? I shall learn. But when it comes I shall no longer be able to understand it.
Quote of the day
Even the distribution of rations leaves much to be desired; the fatigue party, well-intentioned and sympathetic though it be, often finds itself short of provisions.
January 28, 1873
August 3, 1954
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Philip James Bailey
Letitia Elizabeth Landon