I'm 51; I'm younger than Tony Blair. I don't have a dicky heart; I'm up like a broom handle in the morning. I don't drink or gamble - I'm still a catch.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I've elected to age gracefully.
I'm too young at 50. I'm not grown up yet. There's part of everybody like that.
It's weird: The leader of the Conservative Party in England is two years younger than me, and I still don't really feel like a responsible adult.
I don't know what I'll be like when I'm 60. I already have the traits of a retired gentleman.
I used to be a good party boy. I'm old. I'm an old man. You pay the consequences. I'm just fine with a couple of drinks, no more than that.
I think I'm rather young and sprightly, but then you see pictures of yourself and think, 'Who is that old man?' and I realise I'm not as young as I thought I was.
I'm in no hurry to get old. But when I do, I'll be out to enjoy every last minute. I see myself at 90 in some nursing home, waving my walking stick about as I jive to Gene Vincent records.
My politics of optimism and hope still casts its lot with the Democrats - in the optimistic hope that the dying embers of its status as the party of our better angels, one that took risks for social justice, can still be fanned into a flame. But I'm an old man, born in 1969.
I've aged, but grown up? No.
I've lived the life of a 35-year-old since I was 18.
No opposing quotes found.