A Quote by Georgia Toffolo

I seem to fancy middle-aged men, weirdly. — © Georgia Toffolo
I seem to fancy middle-aged men, weirdly.
We're all weirdly single, middle-aged women with too much money who look to fill the void with too much shopping.
The long, dull, monotonous years of middle-aged prosperity or middle-aged adversity are excellent campaigning weather for the devil.
When you invite a middle-aged moralist to address you, I suppose I must conclude that you have a taste for middle-aged moralizing.
I suppose middle-aged love is interesting for middle-aged people.
For some reason I seem to be a massive hit with middle-aged women. I seriously don't know what it is.
When I sat in rooms with middle-aged white men, I heard them speaking like young black men in America. They had been solidly middle class for the majority of their working careers, but now they were feeling angry, disaffected, and in some cases, they actually had tears in their eyes.
I'm not always in that good with middle-aged heterosexual men.
There are two barriers that often prevent communication between the young and their elders. The first is middle-aged forgetfulness of the fact that they themselves are no longer young. The second is youthful ignorance of the fact that the middle aged are still alive.
I don't like that politics is associated with middle-aged, greying men.
Men who are orthodox when they are young are in danger of being middle-aged all their lives.
Actions from youth, advice from the middle-aged, prayers from the aged.
I tell you old and young are better than tired middle-aged, nothing is so dead dead-tired, dead every way as middle-aged.
Scientists have found a way to keep middle-aged female mice from going through menopause. Now they're working on a way to keep middle-aged male mice from buying expensive sports cars.
Those who are truly decrepit, living corpses, so to speak, are the middle-aged, middle-class men and woman who are stuck in their comfortable grooves and imagine that the status quo will least forever or else are so frightened it won't, that they have retreated into their mental bomb shelters to wait it out.
Any attempts at autobiography before the age of eighty seem pretty self-involved to me. There are a lot of smart middle aged people but not many wise ones.
If you came from Mars and tried to analyse British or American society through novels, you'd think our society was preponderantly full of middle-aged, slightly alcoholic, middle-class, intellectual men, most of whom are divorced from their families and have nothing to do with children.
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