The young boy brought an acorn into the kitchen and asked his eighty-year-old grandfather what it was. His grandfather explained that it was really a big seed, and if they planted it in the backyard the boy’s grandchildren would eventually be able to climb up the great oak that would grow from it. “But, it’ll take years and years,” complained the boy. “Yep,” said Grandpa, getting up from his chair with the acorn in his hand, “so we’d better go out and plant it right now.”
Young people may know the rules, but old-timers know the exceptions.
Even if we aren’t going to be around to pick the fruit we should still plant some trees.
The young learn, the old understand.
The old know a lot more about being young than the young know about being old.
Age provides reasons rather than excuses.
Your real age is how old you feel right after you’ve tried to show someone how young you feel.
We need smart young people to turn things upside down; but we also need old fogies to keep them from turning upside down what should be left right-side-up.
People are only young once, but there seems to be no limit to the number of times some of them can be immature.
Young people don’t understand old age.
We’re not old until regrets replace dreams; we’re as young as our dreams and as old as our doubts.
You’re never too old to be curious.
Getting old happens, feeling old is a choice.
As time passes motives change.