It is with an old love as it is with old age a man lives to all the miseries, but is dead to all the pleasures.

Old age is a tyrant, who forbids, under pain of death, the pleasures of youth.

The defects of the mind, like those of the face, grow worse with age.

It is great folly to wish to be wise all alone.

Though nature be ever so generous, yet can she not make a hero alone. Fortune must contribute her part too and till both concur, the work cannot be perfected.