A Quote by Ruth Gordon

Nothing dates one so dreadfully as to think someplace is uptown. At our age one must be watchful of these conversational gray hairs. — © Ruth Gordon
Nothing dates one so dreadfully as to think someplace is uptown. At our age one must be watchful of these conversational gray hairs.
Gray hairs are signs of wisdom if you hold your tongue, speak and they are but hairs, as in the young.
These wrinkles are nothing These gray hairs are nothing, This stomach which sags with old food, these bruised and swollen ankles, my darkening brain, they are nothing. I am the same boy my mother used to kiss.
Avarice, with all its black attendants, is confessedly a crime of old age, and seldom arrives at maturity till accompanied with gray hairs.
Our spirits grow gray before our hairs.
Now where I come from We don't let society Tell us how it's supposed to be Our clothes, our hair We don't care It's all about being there Everybody's going Uptown That's where I wanna be Uptown Set your mind free.
Did you know that according to legend, the guy who became Buddha decided to seek enlightenment the day he got a touch of gray? "Gray hairs," the would-be Buddha said, "are like angels sent by the god of death".
After a certain age, you couldn't even say where you were from. You went someplace, and lived there. And then you went someplace else.
I just stood there, looking at her. My head was spinning, my mouth dry, and all I could think about was that I wanted to go someplace safe, someplace I could be alone and okay, and that this was impossible. My old life had changed and my new one was still in progress, altering by the second. There was nothing, nothing to depend on. And why was I surprised?
Gray hairs are death's blossoms.
We're seeing the arrival of conversational robots that can walk in our world. It's a golden age of invention.
Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.
The person who doesn't scatter the morning dew will not comb gray hairs.
When a woman's face is wrinkled And her hairs are sprinkled, With gray, Lackaday! Aside she's cast, No one respect will pay; Remember, Lasses, remember. And while the sun shines make hay: You must not expect in December, The flowers you gathered in May.
I am not going to respect... gray hairs unless there is wisdom beneath them.
Gray goes with gold. Gray goes with all colors. I've done gray-and-red paintings, and gray and orange go so well together. It takes a long time to make gray because gray has a little bit of color in it.
When you're young and you're comin' up, and you dream of gettin' this record deal, and then you actually get it, and, you know, its apples and oranges from everything that you pictured. The line was pretty self-explanatory to me: once I got in my major label agreement, I definitely couldn't deal with it. It was drivin' me crazy, givin' me gray hairs at an early age.
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