"You know, Pongo, the whole trouble in this world is the way fellows deteriorate as they grow older. Time, like an ever-rolling stream, bears all their finer qualities away, with the result that the frightfully good chap of twenty-five is changed little by little into the stinker of fifty. Yes, yes, I know what you are going to say. 'Absurd,' you are about to protest. 'Look at you, Uncle Fred. Every day in every way you have got better and better. A saintly boy, you have grown into a saintly senior, revered and respected by all, and the brain reels at the thought of the heights you will reach when you are eighty.' Quite true, but I am a rare exception."
(from Cocktail Time, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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