There is still no cure for the common birthday. ~John Glenn
When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years. ~Author unknown, commonly attributed to Mark Twain but no evidence has yet been found for this (Thanks, Garson O'Toole!)
A father carries pictures where his money used to be. ~Author Unknown
You're not 40, you're eighteen with 22 years experience. ~Author Unknown
There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself. ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994
Youth would be an ideal state if it came a little later in life. ~Herbert Asquith
Dad, you're someone to look up to no matter how tall I've grown. ~Author Unknown
The first sign of maturity is the discovery that the volume knob also turns to the left. ~Jerry M. Wright
There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself. ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994
Henry James once defined life as that predicament which precedes death, and certainly nobody owes you a debt of honor or gratitude for getting him into that predicament. But a child does owe his father a debt, if Dad, having gotten him into this peck of trouble, takes off his coat and buckles down to the job of showing his son how best to crash through it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland
Wisdom doesn't necessarily come with age. Sometimes age just shows up all by itself. ~Tom Wilson
There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself. ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994
May you live to be a hundred yearsWith one extra year to repent.~Author Unknown
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