Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an increasing belly? is not your voice broken? your wind short? your chin double? your […]

The older I wax the better I shall appear. (Henry V)

Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty; for in my youth I never did apply hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; and did not, with unbashful forehead, woo the means of weakness and debility; therefore, my age is as a lusty winter, frosty but kindly. (As You Like It)

That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. (As You Like It)

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come. (Merchant of Venice)

Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity? (Henry IV)

When the age is in, the wit is out. (Much Ado About Nothing)

My oil-dried lamp, shall be extinct with age. My inch of taper will be burnt and done. (Richard III)

To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I ey’d, Such seems your beauty still. (Sonnet 104)