Lost, so small amid that dark, hands grown cold, body image fading down corridors of television sky.

The past is never dead. It's not even past.

Old people, who have felt blows and toil and known the world's hard hand, need, even more than children do, a woman's tenderness.

The past is our definition. We may strive with good reason to escape it or to escape what is bad in it but we will escape it only by adding something better to it.

To articulate what is past does not mean to recognize “how it really was.” It means to take control of a memory, as it flashes in a moment of danger.

We live in an old chaos of the sun.

Why is it that one can look at a lion or a planet or an owl or at someone's finger as long as one pleases, but looking into the eyes of another person is, if prolonged past a second, a perilous affair?

I'm a massive fan of Drake, and we walked right past him. He's too cool to be clapping One Direction though.

Sometimes I don't know what takes me over during a game. Sometimes I just feel I have moved to a different place and I can make the pass, score the goal or go past my marker at will.

I have put off the past like a worn-out cloak.

“The Goatherd and the Wild Goats A GOATHERD, driving his flock from their pasture at eventide, found some Wild Goats mingled among them, and shut them up together with his own for the night. The next day it snowed very hard, so that he could not take the herd to their usual feeding places, but was obliged to keep them in the fold. He gave his own goats just sufficient food to keep them alive, but fed the strangers more abundantly in the hope of enticing them to stay with him and of making them his own. When the thaw set in, he led them all out to feed, and the Wild Goats scampered away as fast as they could to the mountains. The Goatherd scolded them for their ingratitude in leaving him, when during the storm he had taken more care of them than of his own herd. One of them, turning about, said to him: “That is the very reason why we are so cautious; for if you yesterday treated us better than the Goats you have had so long, it is plain also that if others came after us, you would in the same manner prefer them to ourselves.” Old friends cannot with impunity be sacrificed for new ones.”

“once upon a time all the rivers combined to protest against the action of the sea in making their waters salt. "When we come to you," sad they to the sea, "we are sweet and drinkable; but when once we have mingled with you, our waters become as briny and unpalatable as your own." The sea replied shortly, "Keep away from me, and you'll remain sweet.”

"Any old coach will say the game was meant for finesse. It's a beautiful game, especially on television."

"Why would I worry about getting older - what's to moan about?"

"Why would I worry about getting older - what's to moan about?"

"In actual life I am a grumpy old bag."

"Of all sound of all bells... most solemn and touching is the peal which rings out the Old Year."

"The old Paris is no more (the form of a city changes faster, alas! than a mortal's heart)."

"You, that are going to be married, think things can never be done too fast: but we that are old, and know what we are about, must elope methodically, madam."

"History is an account, mostly false, of events, mostly unimportant, which are brought about by rulers, mostly knaves, and soldiers, mostly fools."

"Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young. The greatest thing in life is to keep your mind young."

"All the tales of miracles, with which the Old and New Testament are filled, are fit only for impostors to preach and fools to believe"

"[The Hits 1789-'97 George Washington was serenaded with new words to] God Save the King ... I don't know whether you have abandoned your old principles or whether you ever had any."

"Just scream! You vent, and the body just feels good after a good old yell."