From here it sounds great to say we'll all get together soon, but all I know is this: you can call me fifty days or fifty years from now and I'll be glad to see you.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Some say that now that 50 years have passed, we would like another 50 more years to celebrate once again; that means it will be 100 years. After one hundred years, I will be 118 years old.
If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life.
You know, I might get married at 50 or 60, when it actually means something to say 'for the rest of my life.'
I love the perspective afforded by having lived five decades, a degree of bemused and muted calm, a relief from the insistent demands of a turbulent ego and rampant ambition. I'd love to stay here forever. But something tells me that 50 is a sunny idyll, a temporary state of grace, a golden afternoon.
The problem with me is, I guess, the way I express myself, you have to be with me 50 years before you can get a sense of what I'm talking about.
I've been a long time coming, and I'll be a long time gone. You've got your whole life to do something, and that's not very long.
In 50 years, I don't think you're gonna look back at 2006 and say, 'The good old days.'
Time starts out as a notion. But after you turn fifty, time is not a notion anymore but a fact that you start feeling clearly, and in a way, it pushes you to become present in the present.
The heyday of woman's life is the shady side of fifty.
If you're 50, you're never going to be 50 ever again, so enjoy being 50. If you sit through the year wishing you were younger, before you know it, it's going to be over, and you're going to be 51.