Old age (n.) and its tranquillity after the storms of youth are everyone's involuntary proof that the psyche runs on energy.
Old age (n.) guards the mysteries and the laws among primitives; with us the old compete with the young — in America the ideal father is his sons' brother and the mother her daughter's younger sister.
Old age (n.) at its extreme returns us to childhood's condition: submerged in the unconscious, a problem for others rather than ourselves.
Old age (n.) that refuses its descent leaves people wooden — nostalgic pillars of salt with vivid memories of youth and no living relation to the present.
Old age (n.) that will not focus on the goal of death is as neurotic as youth that represses its fantasies of the future.
Old age (n.) near death sees immense vistas of time, living no longer in personal relationships but in the movement of ideas through the centuries.
Old age (n.) frees one to take risks: in his eighth decade, Jung says, men's changing opinions scarcely impress him, and the old masters weigh more than Western prejudice.
Old age (n.) brings back old sweet memories: when one thinks of dying, they return from the womb of time, as a forgotten Paris love returned to a sceptical professor of seventy-two.