All things age. All things die. In the end, our sun burns out. Our universe grows cold and perishes. But the Dark Dimension, it’s the place beyond time.
If you live long enough, you see the same eyes in different people.
Do not go gentle into that good night; Old age should burn and rave at close of day. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.[“Do not go gentle into that good night” by Dylan Thomas]
We seem to have reached the age where life stops giving us things and starts taking them away.
The age can be wicked to those who walk alone.
Why is grief the providence of youth? I don’t know. But I’d imagine that age deepens all feelings. Including grief.
So what is age? Nothing means anything if you are actually in love.
