By the age of twenty, you know you're not going to be a rock star. By twenty-five, you know you're not going to be a dentist or any kind of professional. And by thirty, darkness starts moving in- you wonder if you're ever going to be fulfilled, let alone wealthy and successful. By thirty-five, you know, basically, what you're going to be doing for the rest of your life, and you become resigned to your fate......I mean, why do people live so long? What could be the difference between death at fifty-five and death at sixty-five or seventy-five or eighty-five? Those extra years... what benefit could they possibly have? Why do we go on living even though nothing new happens, nothing new is learned, and nothing new is transmitted? At fifty-five, your story's pretty much over.

Just as in the second part of a verse bad poets seek a thought to fit their rhyme, so in the second half of their lives people tend to become more anxious about finding actions, positions, relationships that fit those of their earlier lives, so that everything harmonizes quite well on the surface: but their lives are no longer ruled by a strong thought, and instead, in its place, comes the intention of finding a rhyme.

Even during a mid-life crisis do not deviate from your goal. History remembers only those who succeed.

There comes a time in one’s life, perhaps in middle age, when we stop and assess who we are, and the life we have.

Life itself had become disembodied. My family, the spine of my days, had crumbled. I was lost in invertebrate time.

Evelyn stared into the empty ice cream carton and wondered where the smiling girl in the school pictures had gone.

when true purpose calls, double mindedness, confusion and frustration come along.