I'm sixty years of age. That's 16 Celsius. ~George Carlin, Brain Droppings, 1997
Middle age is having a choice between two temptations and choosing the one that'll get you home earlier. ~Dan Bennett
Are we not like two volumes of one book? ~Marceline Desbordes-Valmore
Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. ~Elizabeth Stone
Henry James once defined life as that predicament which precedes death, and certainly nobody owes you a debt of honor or gratitude for getting him into that predicament. But a child does owe his father a debt, if Dad, having gotten him into this peck of trouble, takes off his coat and buckles down to the job of showing his son how best to crash through it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland
Fatherhood is pretending the present you love most is soap-on-a-rope. ~Bill Cosby
A father carries pictures where his money used to be. ~Author Unknown
The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age. ~Lucille Ball
In childhood, we yearn to be grown-ups. In old age, we yearn to be kids. It just seems that all would be wonderful if we didn't have to celebrate our birthdays in chronological order. ~Robert Brault, www.robertbrault.com
Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. ~Elizabeth Stone
Middle age is when your age starts to show around your middle. ~Bob Hope
Sherman made the terrible discovery that men make about their fathers sooner or later... that the man before him was not an aging father but a boy, a boy much like himself, a boy who grew up and had a child of his own and, as best he could, out of a sense of duty and, perhaps love, adopted a role called Being a Father so that his child would have something mythical and infinitely important: a Protector, who would keep a lid on all the chaotic and catastrophic possibilities of life. ~Tom Wolfe, The Bonfire of the Vanities
There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself. ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994
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