Gray hairs seem to my fancy like the soft light of the moon, silvering over the evening of life.
A timid person is frightened before a danger, a coward during the time, and a courageous person afterward.
Our birthdays are feathers in the broad wing of time.
As winter strips the leaves from around us, so that we may see the distant regions they formerly concealed, so old age takes away our enjoyments only to enlarge the prospect of the coming eternity.
