Acceptance of Age Quotes

Every kid who hated grownups becomes a grownup. Well, except the ones who died.

It's very bizarre to me to now really be a grown-up. I kind of can't believe that I'm there because I certainly don't feel that way a lot of the time.

I was getting old, man. I was staring 27 in the face.

Ageism works in both directions. As a teenager in the public eye, people would talk condescendingly to me. When you get older there's this feeling that you have to start carving up your face and body. Right now I'm in the middle ground - I think women in their thirties are taken seriously.

I think in your 30s you can still pretend you're in your 20s, or at least maintain some semblance of youth. Forty is when you've got to stop denying the inevitable.

Let me tell you, hitting 40 is not fun.

I've looked at myself on screen and thought, 'Oh, that's what I look like, I'm not 26 any more.'

Turning 40 didn't, as a number, scare me or throw me off at all.

I look in the mirror expecting to be 34 and see someone who is 58. What's that all about? I haven't even thought about turning 60 yet, but so many of my friends have celebrated it by now that it's lost its terror. And I don't mind being 58; it's just such a surprise when one doesn't feel it at all.

Getting older is a struggle. I always feel that just under the surface of acceptance and enjoyment of the ageing process is a terrible hysteria just waiting to burst out.

Comediennes are the lucky ones, because if you're funny, you can be 125 years old and they will still accept you.

How do you tell your mother that you feel you're getting... old? If I'm... old, then what is she?

The irony is that the more we fight age, the more it shows. Paint on a 50-year-old face brings to mind a Gilbert and Sullivan comic figure. Smooth the cheeks, and suddenly the ear lobes and hands look out of place. Do we run around in October, painting the gold leaves green?

I hope to find the roles that are age appropriate but not yearning to be younger, or parenting ad nauseam.

Something magical happened when I turned 25 - I looked in the mirror and was like, 'You might not get carded for an R-rated movie anymore.' Like I didn't have a little stick figure anymore.

There's a scary moment when you realise you're no longer the youngest person in the room. Especially if you've been a successful young person. That's followed, of course, by the realisation that you're actually the oldest person in the room.

I feel like 35. At 35 you're old enough to know something and young enough to look forward to what you can do with the knowledge. So I stayed at 35!