Quotes for Events - Turning 40

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Quotes for turning 40.

At twenty years of age, the will reigns; at thirty, the wit; and at forty, the judgment.

To hold the same views at forty as we held at twenty is to have been stupefied for a score of years, and take rank, not as a prophet, but as an unteachable brat, well birched and none the wiser.
The world’s anguish is caused by people between twenty and forty.
When they used to say "Life begins at forty," I did the same "yeah, right" that you, if you're under forty, still do. But of course if you play your cards right (study hard! work hard! buy in bulk! live beneath your means!) and if you have your share of good luck--it's true.
If life really begins at 40, it's because that's when women finally get it. The guts to take back their lives. Seize the day. Glorify the season and seasoning.
The womb is not a clock nor a bell tolling, but in the eleventh month of its life I feel the November of the body as well as of the calendar. In two days it will be my birthday and as always the earth is done with its harvest.
It is almost universal to have a hurry-up feeling as we hit 40. The first little fissures appear in our physical shells. Damn, why is the type in the phone book so small? Students start calling you "mister." (Behind your back you know they're probably calling you "that old fart.")
Men at forty Learn to close softly The doors to rooms they will not be Coming back to.
I'm now forty, and after all forty is an entire lifetime, it really is extreme old age. It isn't done to live beyond forty, it's vulgar and immoral. Who lives beyond forty, give me an honest answer? I'll tell you who does: fools and good-for-nothings. . . . I've got the right to speak thus because I myself will live to be sixty. I'll live to be seventy! I'll live to be eighty!
At the age of forty, men that love love rootedly. If the love is plucked from them, the life goes with it.
As if a man's soul were not too small to begin with, they have dwarfed and narrowed theirs by a life of all work and no play; until here they are at forty, with a listless attention, a mind vacant of all material of amusement, and not one thought to rub against another, while they wait for the train.
When life, once past its fortieth year, Wheels up its evening hemisphere, The mind's own shadow, which the boy Saw onward point to hope and joy, Shifts round, irrevocably set Tow'rd morning's loss and vain regret, And, argue with it as we will, The clock is unconverted still.
The true period of human existence may be reasonably estimated as forty years.
I am resolved to grow fat, and look young till forty, and then slip out of the world, with the first wrinkle, and the reputation of five-and-twenty.
When Nature first created man, monkey, and bull, she endowed the man with forty years of life, the monkey with forty, and the bull with twenty. The man wanted more, and the monkey and the bull volunteered to help him out. "Twenty's enough for me," said the monkey. "Man can have my other twenty." "And I'll give him ten of mine," said the bull. And thus it came about that man's life runs to seventy years, on the average, and is divided into these three periods: first forty years, normal living; next twenty, monkey business; last ten, shooting the bull.
Food is better for a man up to the age of forty; after forty drink is better.
Thanks to modern medical advances such as antibiotics, nasal spray, and Diet Coke, it has become routine for people in the civilized world to pass the age of 40, sometimes more than once.
Every man over 40 is a scoundrel.
After his fortieth year, any man of merit, anyone who is not just one of five-sixths of humanity so grievously and miserably endowed by nature, will hardly be free from a certain touch of misanthropy. For, as is natural, he has inferred the characters of others from his own and has gradually become disappointed.
A woman, till five and thirty, is only looked upon as a raw girl, and can possibly make no noise in the world till about forty. I don't know what your ladyship may think of this matter, but 'tis a considerable comfort to me to know there is upon earth such a paradise for old women, and I am content to be insignificant at present, in the design of returning when I am fit to appear nowhere else.
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field, Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now, Will be a tattered weed, of small worth held.