…my life is going/has gone by so fast!? How could it be that I - (in my aging, hoary head, looking in the memory mirror, am still a child, then a boy, an adolescent and then a man grown to maturity, now grown old and infirm!?) -how can it be that I have memories which are 60 years old!
How can it be that the thought of dying and of death is something I once rarely gave pause to but now when I think about It, it’s from an at-the-brink-of-the-grave viewpoint; all my life my mantra has been the unending refrain, Think About IT! Now I’m not so sure…there are frightening aspects to it.
'Few people think more than two or three times a year; I have made an international reputation for myself by thinking once or twice a week...' - George Bernard Shaw
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