When I was a little kid I used to play with guys twice my age so I was the last one picked so if I picked I knew that I had to get the ball to the scorer if I wanted to stay on the court so that was pretty much my job.

My sister and I shared a bedroom our entire lives and I believe she discovered the Beatles when she was about 11 and I'm four years younger. So from the age of 7 until 17 we had nothing but Beatles paraphernalia in our room even those little stuffed Beatles that went on stands that are dressed as the Sgt. Pepper band.

I never had little brothers so I was totally not used to hearing a lot of cussing at a young age! I learned what 'pull my finger' meant the hard way.

Of middle age the best that can be said is that a middle-aged person has likely learned how to have a little fun in spite of his troubles.

This is the first age that's ever paid much attention to the future which is a little ironic since we may not have one.

I'm asked all the time in interviews about who I am and I know a few people my age who have a strong sense of self but I couldn't say I know myself and sum it up and give it to you in a little package. I don't know myself at all yet.

When you get to my age life seems little more than one long march to and from the lavatory.

I first learned that there were black people living in some place called other than the United States in the western hemisphere when I was a very little boy and my father told me that when he was a boy about my age he wanted to be an Episcopal priest because he so admired his priest a black man from someplace called Haiti.

There is nothing in socialism that a little age or a little money will not cure.

If you've got to my age you've probably had your heart broken many times. So it's not that difficult to unpack a bit of grief from some little corner of your heart and cry over it.

Ours is an excessively conscious age. We know so much we feel so little.

Men of age object too much consult too long adventure too little repent too soon and seldom drive business home to the full period but content themselves with a mediocrity of success.

Reading after a certain age diverts the mind too much from its creative pursuits. Any man who reads too much and uses his own brain too little falls into lazy habits of thinking.

The real sadness of fifty is not that you change so much but that you change so little.