"When nations grow old, the arts grow cold and commerce settles on every tree." — William Blake

Youth comes but once in a lifetime

People in high life are hardened to the wants and distresses of mankind as surgeons are to their bodily pains

A child learns to discard his ideals, whereas a grown-up never wears out his short pants.

I'd like to grow very old as slowly as possible.

We grow gray in our spirit long before we grow gray in our hair.

In sorrow he learned this truth: Though one may return to the place of his birth, he cannot go back to his youth

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